The Betty Chronicles
by Emily Bowden
Summary: There is an exclusive group known as the Cullens who only allow the most seductive of women into their circle. But their training is not what she thought it would be. Rated MA for lemons & adult content. Cannon couples...eventually...
1. Prologue

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to MsMayfly & CandyCane for being my betas on this project. **

* * *

The Betty Chronicles

Prologue – Day One

I walked onto the serene property, impressed by the vast grounds and expansive architecture. It wasn't anything like the houses I'd seen back home. Those were mostly duplexes or mobile homes, bolted to the ground to give the illusion of stability. There was nothing promising or comforting about my previous situation, and I welcomed the new distraction with open eyes and a free mind. But I never expected myself to be standing among something so grand as this home.

It was the epitome of a Hollywood mansion, donned with marble columns and a perfectly manicured landscape. Since I was expected, I figured that they had found something in me that was appealing, for only those who were granted an invitation were welcomed. And I wasn't going to argue or discuss how out of place I felt among all the glitz and glamour of the Orange County royalty, even if I had yet to meet them.

I couldn't imagine how many square footage the estate contained. In fact, I doubted I had ever seen anything so illustrious. But the reason for my being here was not to ogle the lavish surroundings. If I was lucky and passed all their tests, I would be blessed enough to call this place home for the next six months or so. And the training I would receive would be unlike anything I could possibly imagine.

I wasn't sure what the initiation process entailed. I had never heard of such a thing, except in old cult movies. And even those were not as secretive as this place seemed to be, evidenced by the solid enclosure securing the grounds.

I made my way up the front steps leading to the large front doors. I noticed that I hadn't seen anyone on the grounds, except for the guard at the entry gate when I first came in. Looking both ways, I gently knocked on the oak door, hoping that someone would come to let me in. I didn't want to be late for my first trial.

As I pushed on the door, it opened, and I made my way inside. I half expected to see some tailored butler waiting to greet me, but was disappointed to find the foyer vacant.

The entry way was a wide open room, with a large staircase going up both sides, adjoining to a rather extravagant balcony that served as the landing for the second story. The decor was regal and classic, with modern furniture mixed with priceless heirlooms, no doubt. It was beautiful, and I hoped I'd get the chance to explore the home more fully.

On a small table near the entry was a glass of champagne and a note addressed to me. I opened it carefully and read the directions written in an elegantly thin calligraphy.

_Upstairs, second door on the right. Your directions are inside. Have a drink on us._

Taking a deep breath, I placed the card back onto the table and gazed at the tall crystal flute that held the bubbling nectar. Figuring I had nothing to lose, I poured the golden fluid down my throat, enjoying the little jolt of courage it gave me as the alcohol zinged through my blood.

I made my way up the marble staircase; the heels of my shoes clicking against the hard surface was the only noise I could hear. The fact that I felt like I was in a museum only added to my anxiety, and I hoped I had made the right decision by coming here.

At the top of the staircase, I stepped onto the expansive balcony. Directly on the back wall, opposite of the front door, stood two large bay windows. The glass was etched and thick, aligned with stained glass fixtures that held Greek lettering with old sayings marked in Latin. The mixing of the two languages was odd, but I guessed that they took the sanctity of their rituals quite seriously, for they had outlined this area as their territory only.

I turned toward the right and made out three doors leading down a long corridor. There was a deep ruby rug trailing down the hallway, like the proverbial red carpet. With trembling fingers, I reached out to the doorknob on the second door and turned. The door opened easily, and I could barely make out the outlines of furniture for the light was so dim.

Once my eyes adjusted, I saw an erotic, luxurious room built to cater to the darkest sexual desire. The main focal point was a large, brick fireplace where a low fire was churning, offering the only source of light. In the middle of the room was a huge, rounded bed covered in white satin sheets. There was an L-shaped couch that was off to the side, probably used for observation; that was my guess, anyway. Large mirrors donned two walls, practically covering the entire surface. A soft melody played in the background and a subtle scent of sandalwood and sex wafted into my senses.

On the table by the door was another glass of champagne and a folded note card addressed to me. I opted to drink first this time, knowing that I'd need the courage once I'd read my instructions. With slightly trembling hands, I reached for my orders and began to read.

_Sit in the center of the bed and pleasure yourself. Take your time and bring yourself to orgasm three times. Use whatever you need. The room is yours._

* * *

**AN: This story is different than anything I've written before. I hope you enjoy it! Reviewers get a teaser, as is always the case with my stories. There is a blog for this story that will have pics, outfits, bonuses, teaser pics, ect. The link is on my profile. **

_**Rec's - Misguided Ghost by MsMayfly & ****Hide and Drink by Savage (on Twilighted)**_


	2. Chapter 1 The Trial

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to MsMayfly & CandyCane for being my betas on this project. **

* * *

The Betty Chronicles

Chapter One – The Trial

Monday April 5th, 2010:

~ Edward Masen ~

I hadn't expected my day to be as productive as it turned out to be. In fact, I usually detested days when we had to start the screening process because the outcome was often a negative one.

Cruising up the long driveway toward the Cullen Mansion in my Aston, I tried to get myself in the mental state that I'd need to be in before I viewed the first trials, but I couldn't shake the sense of foreboding overcoming me.

I'd been dissatisfied more times than I could count in the past two years, which probably wasn't a bad thing. Usually, it just meant another long month of disappointment on my part when we realized the new batch of women were no good. We'd found several candidates that fit our needs, but as was often the case, they lacked that certain spark I'd personally been looking for. It didn't matter, though; I always had a lot of fun deciphering through the rejects.

But I had become incredibly bored waiting for that _one_ to come along. I was coming to realize that perhaps my standards were just too high. I needed a woman who was supple, but thin and toned at the same time. I wanted her elegant and reformed, but able to get dirty when I was in the mood. I wanted a woman who could submit to me, but also put me in my place when she craved domination. She needed to be gorgeous and alluring, but not overly so.

I was tired of the blonde plastics who paraded around this town, shoving their ten thousand dollar tits in my face. The sex with those types of woman was as fake as their golden brown skin, and I was sick of having mediocre orgasms as a result of passionless fucking.

I was relying on the logic of the Cullens to get me through this. It may be an unconventional way to find sexual compatibility, but I couldn't find any fault in their methods. I had bedded many women in the past two years, each hand selected for me by a strenuous system of checks and balances designed to please my every desire.

It wasn't about promiscuity; it wasn't about experimentation, although we did plenty of that. The program was about learning how to find sexual pleasure, adapting to different methods, and finding that one person who chemically and physically matched us to perfection.

Not many outsiders knew of our methods, for we kept a pretty tight seal on our identity. Those who had been rejected would sometimes threaten exploitation once they'd left us. And that was when we'd produce the tapes.

They never depicted anything that the candidate had been recorded doing with any of us. Usually, the evidence would show them pleasuring themselves over and over again, in the middle of one of our vacant rooms. It made it seem that they were perhaps obsessed with one of our brothers, having broken into our home in broad daylight to live some pathetic fantasy. The whistle blower would be informed of our possession of the incriminating footage, then would be assured that we could also obtain the addresses of employers, mothers, or grandmothers if need be. It was never an issue and our anonymity remained intact.

Some would say we were sadists, other would think we were insane. Some would go as far as to say we were morally and ethically damned. I couldn't have disagreed more.

We were safe and it was all consensual. And if someone looking in from the outside were to think that we were taking advantage of our candidates, they'd be sorely mistaken. Each woman who went through our trials thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. If they made it through the end and were found wanting, they'd leave our home with a plethora of knowledge of the human body and how to bring it to mind-numbing pleasure. It was a win-win on both sides.

But I could feel myself becoming numb to it all, and that was not why I had joined this society. In all honesty, I couldn't remember the exact rationale behind my decision any more; another red flag telling me that this was my last go-around. I was done after this, and part of me was excited about that prospect.

I pulled up in front of the estate and parked in my usual spot. I noticed two more cars there and realized that I was not the only brother watching the trial today. We always had an open door policy, but most of the men who had a Dame didn't come to the trials. Smiling, I walked into the large foyer and headed up the stairs towards the observation room.

"Masen," Jacob Black acknowledged as I stepped into the darkened room. I noticed that Seth Clearwater was sitting next to him, his expression eager as he stared into the vacant room behind the two-way glass, waiting for our pledge to arrive. I nodded my greeting as I simultaneously picked up my spec sheets, shifting through the different compatibility charts.

The screening records informed me that I had been matched to two candidates this go around: an Isabella Swan and one Lauren Mallory. There were five pledges in total, but I showed significant commonalities to only the two. That didn't mean that I couldn't choose from the other candidates, it just pointed me in the right direction for the easiest match. In my experience, however, I'd discovered that the specs were often wrong.

I had seen Lauren's audition yesterday and I had to admit that I was impressed. She was tall and fit, with a long mane of cornsilk, blonde hair, not typically who I'd be attracted to, but there was something about her that made me take notice. It could have been the fact that she was extremely sexual ― the way she climaxed made my stomach tighten in response ― or perhaps it was the fact that she had the most piercing blue eyes I'd ever seen. Incredibly hypnotic...

"Here's to hoping this one is worth her trouble," Jake muttered under his breath as he sifted through her personality profile. I quirked on eyebrow, wary about his off-the-wall comment.

"What do you mean?" I asked, curious.

"Have you read her file, man?" he asked with a sly smile. When I shook my head, he continued. "She looks too innocent in her pic, first of all. Plus, she's from Bakersfield. Hello, can we say 'hick central'? Her father was an oilfield worker, for fuck sake. She had to be sponsored in as a pledge. When was the last time _that_ happened?"

I shrugged, "I don't know." I began flipping through the information as he continued to rant blithely. Her profile picture was simple, a copy of her Senior yearbook photo, no doubt. She was pretty, with soft, elegant lines and good skin. But I didn't think she could be classified as beautiful or stunning. Sighing, I turned the page to read her characteristics while Jake continued his speech.

"I mean, I know poor people deserve love too, but that's not why I joined this society. I could find a gold digger all on my own. She's automatically out in my book."

"Then why are you still here?" I asked, looking up at him from the paper listing all of Isabella's favorite books and movies. Jake smiled a wicked, predatory grin as he replied.

"I'd never miss an opportunity to see a beautiful woman get off."

"Pig," I chuckled softly.

The door to the adjacent room opened tentatively, and the three of us became hushed as our candidate walked in. She was dressed in a simple maroon wrap dress, with black leather boots that came up to her knees; basically very modest attire, designed to shield her as much as possible. Her hair cascaded down the sides of her face, hiding her from the world. Her entire demeanor screamed simplicity and purity, and I automatically groaned in disappointment.

She gazed around the room quickly, taking in her environment before she made her way to the small table where her instructions sat. Before she even picked up the card, however, she downed the glass of champagne, making Seth chuckle in response.

"She seems to lack the confidence for this," Jake commented, making a note on the margin of her file.

"She's just nervous," Seth argued, sitting back in his chair as he watched the girl replace the crystal on the table and reach for her instructions."Just because she doesn't wear her sexuality on her sleeve doesn't automatically mean she's a prude." Jake scoffed in disagreement, but luckily kept his mouth shut.

I watched her face intently as she read her instructions, waiting for her to put them down and excuse herself from the room. After all, a seemingly innocent woman would find such depravity as incredibly insulting and crude. But to my astonishment, a small smile curved her lips.

She slowly walked around the room, taking in the ambiance of it. As she did so, I could visibly see her start to relax. She had to know that we were watching her, but the illusion of privacy seemed to be playing its part in her comfort level.

She sat on the edge of the bed, looking around her lazily. Inside that room, the dresser drawers were filled with every kind of toy to bring a woman to pleasure. On the flat screen that sat in the armoire, hundreds of pornographic movies were available to aid the pledges to complete their given task.

When I had first joined the society and witnessed my first trial, part of me thought that it was archaic and demeaning. After all, only dirty old men watch a woman masturbate and find pleasure in it, right? My mentor quickly pointed out that it was a way to see how in-tuned a woman was with her body.

Could she pleasure herself for just that reason alone – for only herself, forgetting all other distractions? Or would a woman _perform, _knowing full well that the only motivation for doing so was to prove something to another person? Basically would her pleasure be genuine, or just an act?

I looked at these trials much differently after that.

"What is she doing?" Jake growled as we watched Isabella simply sitting on the bed, not making any type of move to fulfill her designated assignment.

"Maybe she needs time," Seth shrugged. "Not everyone is as ready to get off as you, Jake."

I chuckled as Jake scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest in annoyance.

As I waited for Isabella to gain the ease she needed to continue, I quickly flipped to her sexual profile. This is where the pledges were asked several questions about their sexual experience and preferences. I was interested to see what her answers were.

She'd had two partners prior and only climaxed a handful of times by another person's doing, to which she described as being 'okay'. At reading that sad bit of information, I firmly resolved to change that statistic the first chance I got. It wasn't because I felt anything for her; that was a reaction mostly out of pity, unfortunately.

When asked to describe in four words what sexuality meant to her, she listed subtly, devotion, passion, and submission. I was surprised by the last, but quickly moved on the learn more. She stated that she was open to different kinds of sexual experiences, including being with women, although she was heterosexual by nature.

"Dude, she's moving," Seth whispered, and I looked up to see Isabella sauntering toward the fireplace.

"Fuck, it's about time," Jake grumbled. "I feel like I've been watching water boil."

She stood by the fireplace, running her hand along the thick bricks as she let the heat of it warm her skin. Slowly, she reached to the tie on her dress and pulled it apart. The fabric parted, leaving only a small enticement of skin visible. The movement was so sensual that I found my pulse racing as I watched her undress, incredibly curious to see what the demur woman whore under her clothing.

Turning from the fireplace, she let the dress open further as she moved, and it fell in a cascade of satin to the floor. She was left in a lace bra and panty set, black and see through, matching her leather boots perfectly. Her body was immaculate and well proportioned. Her breasts were full and rounded, naturally balancing the curve of her hips. The thick mane of chocolate hair was no longer covering her, but adding to her seduction as it swayed in time with her body as she walked. The innocence of her face was no longer a deterrent; no, it was an invitation to discover and explore with her.

Subtly: I'd say she nailed that one on the head, for I never would have expected to find something so erotic to be hidden beneath her modest shell.

She idly grazed around the room, looking at all the toys and tools we'd left behind for her pleasure; I was excited to see what she'd find to use. I was accustomed to the pledges opting for the vibrators and putting on a show for us so they'd pass our little test. But I had a feeling that Isabella Swan was not acting for anyone but herself.

She ignored all the toys and trinkets, moving toward the bed in the same lazy manner she'd started in. I watched with rapt attention as she crawled to the center of the bed.

Isabella started with her boots, slowly unzipping them one by one. Her legs were toned and trim, and longer than I'd expected them to be for her height. Her skin had a subtle sheen to it that made it look like silk, and I felt myself wanting to reach out and caress every inch of her. I found myself jealous of her hands and they slowly made their way up her body, teasing and rubbing the smooth skin as she ascending to her most sensitive points.

She paused at the apex of her thigh, using two little fingertips to tease her rounded mound until she was moaning with pleasure. Her other hand continued up her body, pausing at her breasts until each point was pert and ready. When her body began to visibly tremble, she moved once again. Isabella positioned herself in the middle of the bed and climbed under the covers, shielding herself from our perusing eyes.

"What the fuck," Jake complained. "We can't see anything."

"She's doing what we asked her to do," I replied, my eyes glued to the bed where the sensual woman began sighing and moaning as she pleasured herself.

"But we can't see anything," he growled in retort.

"It's not for _you_, idiot," Seth answered, his gaze fixed on the room as well. "Look at her. My god..."

I watched as Isabella's face contorted with her climax; her head was thrown back and her body arched, shifting the covers slightly to reveal her sweaty, enticing body. She panted and writhed as she worked herself into a frenzy again and again, each breathtaking moment erotic and exotic because she was in her own little world, where only the needs of her body dominated.

I watched in an awed silence as she continued well past the three we demanded from her. Only when her needs were sated did she stop and redress.

"She's stays," I said simply, watching as Isabella Swan made her way out of the room. I could see the other two men nod in confirmation, but I didn't give them any acknowledgment. I would make sure she had another chance, for the hidden sexuality in her was a force that needed to be procured. I wasn't sure if she was the one for me, but I could only imagine the fun I could have finding out.

* * *

**AN: Thanks to all of you who reviewed. This is so far out of my comfort zone, so I really need the encouragement. Otherwise, I may just chicken out and not post what I have. LOL! Bella's outfit is posted on the blog for this story, link on my profile. **

**Rec's - This is Not My Life by isakassees & ****High Anxiety by EdwardsBloodType**


	3. Chapter 2 The Rabbit Hole

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to MsMayfly & CandyCane for being my betas on this project. **

* * *

Chapter Two – The Rabbit Hole

Friday April 9th, 2010

~ Isabella Swan ~

I was staring at my reflection in the full length mirror, trying to find some semblance of courage deep within me. The costume fit my body perfectly, accentuating my hips and bust-line like some kind of burlesques starlet. It wasn't my style, but I guessed it would work for the purposes of the evening.

It had been five days since that afternoon of the trial, and I had waited on baited breath to hear back from the Cullens. I tried to squash down the negative repertoire in my head, relentlessly relieving every mistake I could have made inside that room. Was I erotic enough? Did I misread the instructions? Did I do something wrong?

I thought I had done exactly what they'd asked me to, but not hearing any response from them had driven me into self-doubt. On the fifth day, I'd finally acknowledged that maybe it just wasn't meant to be. I was disappointed but ready to move on with my life.

Later that afternoon, a courier arrived at my home with a first class package addressed to me. I hurriedly signed my name for it and tipped the deliveryman a measly four bucks — it was all I had on me. With trembling fingers, I took the package into my living room and ripped it open.

Nestled inside a wrapping of silk fabric was a single off white envelope; the outside of it addressed to me in the same slanted cursive I'd found on the instruction cards at the Mansion the day of my trial.

_Tonight is a costume ball at the Mansion. You are to attend dressed in the costume provided. _

_A limo will pick you up promptly at eight. Find the Queen of Hearts. She is to be your Dame for the program._

_Welcome to the Cullens, Betty Pledge._

Beneath the satin was a scant scrap of clothing that I guessed they considered to be suitable for a costume. Apparently, I would be attending as some sort of sailor, though I thought this type of uniform was better suited for the strip clubs than for the naval base. I guessed I'd missed the memo on when the government having decided silk and miles of leg were appropriate.

Seriously, the garment barely left anything to the imagination - maybe my nipple color would remain a mystery. It was a sheer white mini dress with a navy trim that ran around the top edge of the extremely low-cut and deep plunge of the upper half of the dress that left most of my breasts exposed. A matching bow sat low in my cleavage, drawing attention to the ample amount of skin bare. The trim had gold anchors embossed into the fabric, which was the only clue it was supposed to be naval related, besides the little sailor hat that went with the ensemble. The matching shoes were adorable, navy and white with a little accent bow at the peep-toe, and the heels were tall but not spiked so much that I'd get stuck walking in grass. The dress was tight and thin, both of which I could live with. The problem was it was white — like, _transparently_ so. I wasn't kidding about the nipple color comment...

It didn't leave much room for mystery or intrigue, and that fact left me feeling a sense of disappointment. I was hoping that the Cullens were about more than commercial sexuality. I found all the carnality and harshness of the porno world completely pathetic and disingenuous. After all, it doesn't take much to simulate a whore, right? And I had found enough men that were too fond of that trashy crap that often paraded around the local bars and college hangouts here in LA. I felt like the men in this city would rather drool over a girl with a fifty thousand dollar plastic surgery bill and clothes that would better fit a five-year-old then find some substance and passion in a woman.

I wanted more than stale, bland, fake sex, and my girlfriend who'd sponsored me to the Cullen program on sort of a scholarship arrangement promised me it was more than that. Apparently, the Cullens relied on the pledges bank accounts to deal with costs of running the mansion, and my financial situation was very humble — basically meaning non-existent.

But my friend had insisted that it was the place for me to be. She'd gone through it and was thoroughly satisfied. She'd even found her long-term boyfriend, and they were sort of a hot item now. The changes in her were so drastic that I actually found myself considering her offer to help me apply. She seemed fulfilled, content. I wanted what she had found, and there were hardly any leads where I'd been looking.

So after much enthusiastic begging and canoodling, I'd finally given into her offer to help me through the program. I was hoping that she wouldn't have to support me for long, but I was excited to begin a new adventure — and my loins were practically drooling at the prospect of getting some much needed attention.

I was anxious, and nervous, and completely on edge about everything the night would bring me. I had been gawking at my own reflection for about thirty minutes, analyzing and reassessing every aspect of the whole outfit.

My breasts were perky enough I could get away without wearing a bra to avoid unseemly lines and suggestive shading of my undergarments; however, I'd put on those plastic chicken breast thingies they said were supposed to be a strapless support bra. Ha! The only purpose it served was to hide said areolas from unnecessary perusal, so I guessed they served their purpose.

The other issue that was causing me pause was that my ass was hanging out of the miniscule dress. Literally, the skirt on the pseudo-sailor suit was so short that the navy trim matching the top was almost all there was to it. I was afraid that if I did something so mundane as to cough or hiccup, the bottom of both cheeks were going to be exposed. As a stared at myself, trying to fully understand the depths of my situation, I became fully aware that I'd have to be on guard the entire night so as not to give people a show.

And that was when I realized that I was probably not going to be the only one dressed this way. If they had sent me this outfit, that most likely meant that I was going to be in a huge house filled with mostly naked people the entire night. And that thought made me smile while simultaneously begin to chew my thumbnail to bits.

At eight o'clock sharp, there was a knock at my door. A short, plump man in a black suit was standing in my entryway introducing himself as my driver for the evening. My heart fluttered as I reached for my house key and a small navy wristlet, not wanting to be tied down by a bulky purse, and made my way out into a stretched, black limousine that was probably commissioned by the wealthiest celebrities of LA.

I climbed in with my heart in my throat, taking the driver's proffered hand to help me settle into the plush leather seat. I was surprised to find that I wasn't alone in the car. There were several other ladies in similar scantly attire, watching me with mixed expressions of curiosity, disdain, and apathy. I figured these were the other Betties, and I didn't want to start this off with a sense of competition.

"Hello," I said warmly, trying to offer them a polite smile. Two of them smiled in return and another returned my greeting. The last one just rolled her eyes and continued sipping on her goblet of champagne like the sound of my voice was offensive to her in some way.

I took a quick moment to survey their appearance. The girl who greeted me had kind eyes and a sweet face. Her eyes were a sharp hazel, outlined by a thick row of black lashes. She had tanned, olive skin with a think mane of ebony hair that was curled in chunky waves flowing down her back. She was small, like me, with toned arms and legs. Her breasts were not small, but they weren't large either. Natural, I thought was a good way to describe them.

She was wearing a black, strapless mini-dress that was tightly fitted her her hips, where it then flared out into a skirt just as short as mine. There was soft pink trim running across the low cut top and down the front, over her breasts and down her stomach. They met matching bows at her hips. The trim along the bottom of the skirt was the same pale pink, only it was a soft fringe of feathers that was drew your eyes to her legs. It was tempting to want to reach out and touch the soft down and I'm sure that was the original though in creating such a trim. I found myself beginning to wonder what her costume was supposed to be — other than a flaming piece of lingerie. It was then I noticed the smallest of black cat ears sitting on top of her head of silken curls, with little pink triangles on the insides. The outfit was kind of cute and it made her look innocently sweet, if it wasn't for the fact that her goods were on display like a cheap stripper.

Next to her was another beauty. She had dark, curly hair with bright green eyes made her look somewhat exotic against her tanned skin. She was a tad bit taller than me, it seemed, but her figure was thin and trim. The thing that was drawing most of my attention was the fact that her boobs were about to spill out of her outfit. Seriously, she probably wore a size two in her waistline and an extra large for her bust line. The poor girl looked like she was about to topple over from the weight of them. They didn't have that fake look to them, so I supposed they were real, and I wondered what genetic mixing had concocted that kind of metamorphosis to occur. _She must be Italian..._

Her costume was easier to decipher. She was the classic school girl, pimped out with the pleated pink plaid mini skirt and knee-high white socks with matching pink bows. The sides of her low cut and nearly translucent white top were held together by thin white ties that left most of her torso bare from behind. The unattached matching white collar had a pink tie that rested on the rise of her breasts, seeming again to have the purpose of something someone might want to touch.

The previous two girls seemed shy and uncomfortable in their attire, and I immediately felt a kinship for that fact alone. But the final two girls were anything but uncomfortable. They exuded and radiated sexuality from every pore of their beings, only emphasized by the confidence and attitude laced in that essence. It was sort of intimidating, and I wondered if the Cullens had arranged it so we could size each other up.

The woman next to the School Girl was almost the picture of perfection. She had fare skin, but not so much you'd feel sorry for the girl for never being able to tan. Her skin looked more like porcelain, and I had an odd sense to reach out and caress it. Her hair was straight and strawberry blonde, and her features were perfect and sharp, angular. Her body was amazing; she was tall, toned and trim, with a curvy hips and small waistline. The only thing about her that might have been a turn-off for me was the fact that her tits were obviously fake — like bounce a quarter off them, hard as a rock, could play the bongos plastic balloons.

She was wearing a French maid costume, classic yet with a similar adult edge. The mini dress was similar in design to what Angela was wearing but the black of this girl's was a shining patent leather. It had white lace trim following the neckline straight down into her cleavage. There was a tiny white apron that was nearly the length of the skirt. The skirt had the same white lace trim as the top of the dress but even with the thigh high sheer black stockings being held up by a garter belt, there were several inches of her incredible legs exposed.

The last girl's beauty made me gasp slightly. She was stunning: golden skin, toned body with elegant curves in all the right places. Her hair was blonde and curled, falling almost to her shoulders. The thing that made me stutter was that she had these bright, electric blue eyes that were both piercing and probing. She was looking at me with one eyebrow cocked and an expression of disdain on her face.

Her black mini dress was of the same design as the rest, tightly fitting to low on her waist before flaring out to barely cover her assets. The difference in hers was the red trimming the low cut top and the shining red belt. The bottom of the skirt was different in design from the others in the fact that the majority of it was made out of waving pieces of the same soft, nearly sheer red that trimmed the top of the dress. Add the thigh high red fishnet stockings being held up by a black garter belt and the pointed devil horns resting in her hair and the picture was taking shape. She also had on thigh high, patent-leather boots that were tall and fabulously hot. Those were more my style than anything else I'd seen.

"What's your name?" she asked me with a flat, disinterested tone.

"Bella," I said, forgoing my last name as was protocol for the pledges. We were to keep anonymity until the end of the trials, just in case we didn't make the final cut.

"That's pretty," the kitty cat replied with a soft smile. "Is it short for something?"

"Isabella," I answered, returning her warm smile with one of my own. "I hated the name growing up, though. So I've only gone by Bella. My mother calls me Isabella every now and then, but I always give her crap for it." I was rambling and I knew it, giving these people too much personal information about myself because I was so nervous. The cat smiled again and reassured me with her eyes.

"My name is Angela," she said informally, her tone light and friendly. "This is Jessica," she introduced, pointing to the School Girl, who gave me a small wave in greeting.

"Tanya," the porcelain goddess said curtly as by was of greeting. I smiled and said my hellos.

"I'm Lauren," the stunning blonde said who'd continued to stare at me icily.

"So, are you excited for tonight?" Angela asked me with a bright smile. "It looks like it's going to be a lot of fun."

"Of course it is," Lauren snapped with an exasperated sigh. "We are going to the Mansion of the infamous Cullens. Better put your game faces on, ladies."

"What do you mean?" Jessica asked in a timid tone. She was beginning to look a little afraid, and I felt that perhaps her confidence level had dropped a little since seeing the two stunners in the front of the limo with us.

"What, you don't think this is just an average welcome party, do you?" Lauren asked with a chiding expression. When Jessica nodded her head, verifying that that was indeed exactly what she thought, Lauren and Tanya laughed.

"This is going to be a huge fuckfest," Lauren laughed, seeing the look of shock cross both Angela's and Jessica's faces.

"A...w-what?" Jessica stammered.

"An orgy," Tanya clarified with a wicked grin. "You've heard of one of those, haven't you?"

I balked. _An orgy? Really? _I didn't think the Cullens were the type. I thought that the club was more personalized than a group sex sort of thing with a bunch of random people. It didn't seem like something they'd be into, from what my friend had described.

"Yeah, I have," Jessica answered, her voice slightly shaking. "I just didn't think that —"

"You didn't think at all, apparently," Lauren sneered, the humor gone from her face as she gazed at the three of us with a look of disdain. "I can't believe you three applied to this program with such a sense of naivety. This is the real deal, girls. Either get your garters on or ship out. The three of you look like something out of a sweet sixteen catalog." She was laughing then, Tanya chorusing her with her own melodic trill.

It was in that moment that I had my first real doubt about applying to the Betty program. I wasn't the one for sexual promiscuity, and the thought of performing a sexual act in a large room with several people my first night in gave me a sudden sense of horrible regret. I didn't know if I was prepared for such a thing, and I honestly didn't know if I wanted to find out.

* * *

**AN: I know the plot seems a little different, but I'm hoping it's a _good _different and not a...'well, that's different.' LOL! The costumes for the pledges are posted on the blog for the story, link on my profile. So, what do you think so far? Keep going?**

**Teaser to reviewers!**

**Recs: Searching Under Covers by CandyCanesfly & Modern Bandits and Neglected Dreamers by Neliz**


	4. Chapter 3 The Dame

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to MsMayfly & CandyCane for being my betas on this project. **

* * *

Chapter Three - The Dame

Friday April 9th, 2010 8:20 pm

~ Bella ~

The rest of the ride over to the Cullens consisted of Lauren and Tanya laughing profusely, continuing to give Jessica a slight heart attack with buzzwords like butt plugs and anal beads. The poor girl looked so sick, I thought she might hurl on the floor of the limo just from sheer terror alone.

"Don't let them get to you," I whispered, offering her a confident smile as she stared at me with wide eyes. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"She never said there would be orgies," Jessica mumbled, her voice soft and timid.

"Who, Jess?" Angela asked, tucking a strand of Jessica's curly hair behind her ear as she tried to offer some support.

"My Aunt," she answered in a squeak. "She's part of the Cullen alumni and she recommended me to the program; told me it would make me a woman, but she never said anything about orgies." She whispered the last part harshly, her features becoming rigid as the limo drove on.

"What did she tell you?" I asked, truly curious to learn more about the Cullens from someone who was more in the know.

"She said that it was classy and responsible. That they would never make me do anything I wasn't comfortable with. That was why she told me to be completely honest in my interviews with the previewer. And believe me, I was _very_ specific."

Her comments made me rethink what I'd put on my limits lists: things that I was interested in and what was unacceptable to me. Jessica was starting to sweat a little, so I pulled out a napkin from the limo's compartment kitchen and offered it to her. She gladly took it and began blotting her forehead. It was then I realized that Tanya and Lauren had stopped their taunting and were listening to Jessica with rapt attention. Their faces no longer held any humor, and Lauren's almost looked defensive.

"I called my Aunt when I got my invitation tonight and she was so happy for me," Jessica continued. "We squealed and celebrated. That was when she told me that she knew about the party. Apparently, all the alumni are invited to this costume party. It's a chance for us to mingle with each other, she said. Makes the new pledges more comfortable to let our guard down. She just couldn't get the time off to fly out from the East Coast."

Tanya leaned over and whispered something to Lauren, and the two of them began muttering back and forth with each other. Jessica's panic attack seemed to escalate once we turned onto the drive of the Mansion. I put my hand on her shaking knee to help her calm down.

"I'm sure your Aunt is right, Jess. Don't let what they said get you all worked up. Relax and have fun tonight. If you want to leave or if something is bothering you, come to me, alright? I'll help you get home."

She nodded her thanks as she tried to pull herself together. She began checking her appearance in the tinted windows as the limo stopped. The driver rushed around to open our door. Angela made her way out of the car after giving Jessica a reassuring nod, followed by Lauren and Tanya. I decided to stay back for a minute to help Jessica find her resolve.

Tanya paused briefly before she stepped out. She looked at Jessica and gave her an apologetic look. "We were just messing with you," Tanya told her, offering her a slight shrug of her shoulders and a sheepish grin. "But seriously, if you are that uncomfortable about sex, then maybe you should resign your position. I don't want to see you get hurt." With that, she stepped out into the warm, spring night air.

"What a pair of scandalous bitches," I spat, looking in Tanya and Lauren's direction in disgust and outrage. Jessica burst out laughing.

"I guess it's my fault for letting them get me so worked up," she chuckled. "I was nervous about tonight as it was."

I patted her on the back and she looked at me with a smile. Her courage seemed to have returned.

Jessica was ready in a few minutes, and we stepped out of the limo arm in arm. I figured, a united front of solidarity might help her feel less timid, and it seemed to boost her confidence just that small amount she needed.

The house was immaculate, covered in white lights. The stairs that led to the front door were trimmed with a red carpet, and there were two guards dressed in tailored tuxes at the doors to take our names. Once inside, we found the entry was lit with hundreds of votive candles and soft white lights. The carpet led from the foyer straight to the backyard, directing us to where the majority of the party was being held.

The outside was not at all what I expected. There were several white couches set up in tight, intimate groupings surrounded by several tall trees. The trees were laced with hundreds of white lights and the nearby flowerbeds were threaded with beautiful Japanese lanterns. Off to the side, there were tables and chairs, everything covered with white linen, and in the back of that area was a full service bar. It was then I noticed the bartenders and waiters. They were wearing black tuxedo pants and white collars with black bow ties, leaving each and every one of shirtless. It was a sea of sculpted, bare chests and muscular arms.

"Yummy," Jessica purred as a shirtless waiter passed with a tray of champagne flutes. His body was hard, trimmed with corded muscle that made me instantly gnaw my bottom lip. "He's delicious. Wonder if we can play with the help."

"See," I smiled as the waiter paused from his duties to give her a wink. "Do you see anyone out here having sex on one of the couches? You can do this. Relax and have fun."

"Only if he gets to come home with me," she growled, tilting her head so she could better assess his rounded assets. "Damn..."

"First things first, my dear," I giggled. "You need to find your Dame. Do you remember what her costume is?"

"Yes. She is supposed to be a white bunny," she said, looking around the yard for any sign of her Dame. "I hope she won't be hard to find. I'd think a bunny would be a fairly common costume for this place."

"Don't worry, you'll find her," I said with confidence.

"Yeah, maybe after a drink off that waiter's platter, I would," she said, giggling as she gave me a little wave goodbye. She headed toward the direction of the shirtless wonder, and I couldn't help but smile once she reached her destination.

I started making my way across the party, trying to take in the ambiance of the night while simultaneously attempting to find my Dame. The note had said she was the Queen of Hearts, and I could only assume that would be her costume for the night.

I was both nervous and anxious to find her. The Dames were women who'd gone through the program successfully and were asked to stay on for an additional two years to help the new recruits. They were sort of the Queen Bees of the Cullens - that fact made me think that the Cullen program was more matriarchal than what I'd originally believed. From what my friend told me, all of them were matched to long-term partners they'd met while in the program.

As I walked around the yard, I was struck by how insanely beautiful everyone seemed to be. The women were thin and trim, showing ample amount of skin in their barely-there costumes. The men were handsome and regal, with sharp features and strong bodies. It was actually quite picturesque, something that could grace the covers of high fashion magazines, besides the fact that everyone here was half-naked.

I noticed then that the back of the yard was trimmed with a line of white cabanas. The canopies on some of them were closed, and the light behind the fabric projected silhouettes of bodies moving in a sensuous dance.

_I guess there _is_ going to be sex at this party..._

Some of the cabanas were open and filled with different people drinking and enjoying the party. As I made my way over, I noticed that one cabana had a tall man in a sailor suit. The shirt was sleeveless, leaving his muscled arms bare and inviting. That was one thing I could never refuse and was a complete turn on for me — nice arms; ones that could hold me aloft while plowing right into my warmth. The tight shirt barely met his pants at his waist and as he moved, a small line of taught skin would appear. But this bear of a man seemed preoccupied, rubbing the bronzed legs of a woman dressed as a queen.

Her dress was the similar in style to the others I had seen; a low-cut neckline that plunged between her breasts, although her skirt was a bit fuller due to the black petticoat that was completely visible, almost as if it was the skirt itself. The black velvet dress was adorned with three red velvet hearts that ran down the center of the dress. White trim ran along the bottom edge of the skirt and up the front of the dress and attached to a large white collar that framed her neck and head. The halter style of the top left her shoulders and upper back exposed.

As I got closer, I could see how absolutely stunning she was. Her skin was perfectly smooth, soft and warm looking. Supple, was probably the right word. The parts of her body that were on display were perfect, rounded and trim. Her waist was small, but fanned out to full hips and bust line. But it was her face that caused me pause. It was breathtakingly beautiful, elegant, and statuesque. Her look was topped with a perfectly shapped, blonde chignon that left her face free of any debris.

I'd never been attracted to a woman so powerfully before, but I'd always had a certain curiosity when it came to same sex relations. I had kissed one woman in my life, and that was on a dare more than any desire to do so. I'd found I liked it — a lot — but never went any further than that. But this woman could definitely make me rethink my preferences.

She was sitting closely to the sailor, whispering something to him that made him let out a soft groan. I noticed that one of the sailor's hands was drifting up the queen's skirt and he was nibbling on her earlobe as she giggled. She seemed to notice me approaching out of the corner of her eye because she lifted her head and gave me a questioning look.

"Hi," I said numbly. "Um, I think I'm supposed to come find you."

"Damn, baby," the sailor swore, running his eyes over my entire form with a smooth look on his face. "They sure know how to pick 'em nowadays. She's a fox. And you get to play with her? Hot damn..."

"Down boy," the queen laughed, and I saw her push his hand from underneath her skirt. "She just got here."

I gave them a timid smile as she gestured me closer. At the same time, she got the attention of one of the waiters and flagged him over. She took two goblets of white wine off the platter and handed one to me. I took it gingerly, trying to ignore the fact that the sailor was still eye fucking me like an adolescent boy.

"What's your name?" The sailor asked me in a deep timber.

"Bella Sw—" I started to say, but was cut off the queen's reprimand.

"No last names, Pledge," she chastised in a sharp tone, and I immediately began to berate myself for the slip. I knew that we were to avoid giving people our last name, but it was almost innate when being introduced to someone. I figured I needed to be faster on my feet when I was at the Mansion, otherwise I'd be booted out for something stupid. I gave the queen an apologetic look, feeling shy and intimidated by her overbearing posture.

"Aww, baby. You're going to make her scared of you," the sailor laughed. "I like her. I think this trio is meant to be. See, we match!" He began gesturing between our two costumes with a huge cheesy grin on his face, making him look like an eager child rather than the overzealous horny-toad he was just minutes prior.

The queen gave him a stern look and he backed away quickly, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he left. Once outside the tent, he unlatched the sides of it so it fell closed, leaving the pair of us trapped beneath the small space.

"I'm sorry, I may have seemed a little harsh," the queen said to me in a softer tone, turning her body to face me more fully. "It's just you're my responsibility for the next six months and I don't want you leaving on the account of a stupid mistake or something I didn't tell you."

"I understand," I told her meekly.

"Good," she said, her formal tone making a reappearance; she seemed to be returning back to business. "I've reviewed your file very carefully, and I must say that from the outside, you seem squeaky clean. I read your interests and hobbies profile, and adding in the background of your hometown, I didn't real think you'd fit in here."

I nodded my head numbly, trying to think back to what I'd put on that application that would make her come to that conclusion.

"Then I started looking at your sexual experience..." She paused to let out a deep sigh. "Is it true you've only had a handful of mediocre orgasms by someone else?"

I nodded in confirmation, feeling my cheeks burn with the admission.

"Well, that is going to change very quickly," she added with a quirked eyebrow and a devilish smile, and my insides tingled at her implication. "And honestly when I read that, I was almost certain you didn't belong here. I began wondering why they had let you pass the trials in the first place."

"And then I saw the video," she said, giving me an approving grin as my blush deepened at her revelation. I'd assumed that my trial was being recorded, but at the time, I'd tried to block that thought out of my head altogether. I'd focused on the task at hand, leaving everything out besides my own pleasure. I guess I did the right thing.

"I must say, I was impressed by your performance."

"How so?" I asked, inwardly growling at her choice of words. I wasn't _performing_ for anyone but myself, and for her to insinuate otherwise left me boiling inside. I made a point to keep in the forefront of my mind that this whole experience was for me and me alone. I wasn't doing it for anyone else's benefit, and if the program jeopardized who I was inside, I'd be done with it all. I was nothing if not genuine, and I was proud of that fact.

She seemed to recognize my change in tone, for she pulled back slightly, a wicked smile on her lips.

"You didn't use anything," she clarified her last comment, crossing her legs and leaning into me more. "There was no other stimulation besides what resides in that pretty little head of yours. You were in your own world, not really caring about anything but the deed at hand."

"It's not any different from what I do at home," I admitted, which made her let out a laugh.

"I guess not," she chuckled. "My name is Rosalie." She stuck out her hand in introduction and I took it timidly. She was smiling at me with a curious expression, like she knew something about me she felt was interesting or highly entertaining, and I found myself being just as interested in her as she seemed to be about me.

"There was something else in your profile that changed my opinion of you," she said softly, so much so that I had to lean in to listen to her more carefully.

"What was that?" I asked when she didn't continue. At my words, she reached her hand over and placed it on my exposed knee. With her thumb, she began tracing small figure eights on my silken skin, and the sensations fueled something deep inside me that I never thought a woman could produce: passion, lust, and a carnal need to seek release.

"Your sexual interests completely conflict with your outward personality, my sweet Betty," she said in a seductive tone. "I think I'm going to have fun fulfilling some of them to the best of my ability."

I smiled tentatively while biting my bottom lip. Her gaze jotted down to my mouth, and for one brief moment, I wanted her to kiss me. She pulled away abruptly, her reserved manner returning.

"I've been assigned to be your Dame for those reasons alone," she said brusquely. "I am to bring you out of your superficial shell, brutally if I must. Any questions you have are to be addressed to me. Understood?"

I nodded, and she continued swiftly.

"There are four unmatched Consorts here at the party. They will have black stones in their drinks and will most likely make their formal introductions to you at some point in the evening." I hadn't noticed any stones in the drinks before, but I wasn't looking for them as I took in the scene. "You can play with any of them, if you wish, and they can request an evening with you at anytime. This is not about dating; it's about learning how to find pleasure in your body. It will be up to the Consort what that meeting will entail, but I have to say that the Mansion is filled with hopeless romantics so you might get some wooing out of them in the long run. Of course, anything you don't feel comfortable with, use your safe words and the scene stops immediately. Do you remember what those are?"

"Red for stop, Yellow for uncertainty," I said in a soft voice.

"That's right," she nodded in agreement. "Anytime you use those words, the Consort will stop playing immediately."

"I thought safe words were only used for dominate-submissive lifestyles?"

"They are popular for that, yes," she said. "But they come in handy too when your dealing with sexual exploration. Sometimes, ideas on paper seem more interesting than in real life, you know what I'm saying? Plus, you did put that you were interested in both aspects of the BDSM world, so it shouldn't be that big of a stretch for you, right?"

I just nodded numbly.

"The alumni of the Cullens all have purple stones in their goblets, and we do value anonymity Bella — be mindful of that. Some of these people are married to partners that have no idea of what the Cullens entails. Others are prominent businessmen, celebrities, and politicians. If you see someone you recognize, please be discreet. Understand?"

"Yes," I agreed.

"Good. Those of us who've already gone through the program but still live here have white stones in our goblets," she held up her own and at the bottom, I saw a small, smooth stone that illuminated her entire glass. "And I must say this up front. All of us are matched — meaning we are seeing another Consort here at the Cullens facility. Some of us are up for play with others, some are not. Be mindful of that distinction because it will serve you better in the long run. If there is a question, ask. We will all be up front about it so as to avoid uncomfortable circumstances."

"For example, I am matched to Emmett — the sailor you met earlier. Although I like to invite other Betties into our bedroom to play while they learn the ropes, I do not allow them to have sex with my man. I think you'll find that's the case for a lot of the Dames here, except Victoria. She's up for anything," she said, rolling her eyes at the last part. "Voyeurism plays a big part in the Cullens program, but I gather you knew that from your interview process."

"Yes, I did," I answered with a slanted smile. That was one thing that I was looking forward to, actually. Rosalie grined as she continued.

"The Betties are to have red stones in their goblets," she said, pulling out a red ruby from her cleavage and plopping it into my wine with a small splash. "This will open the flood gates, my dear. So be ready. From this moment on, you are to not have sexual relations of any sort with anybody outside of the Cullen program. We are tested and practice safe sex, as was outlined in your application manual. Details of any Consort or Dame's latest testing can be provided upon written demand, as will yours to them. Understand?"

I nodded once again. Rosalie stood for a moment, looking down on me with a vague expression on her face.

"I remember being where you are now. It's an exciting, scary time. It will also be the best in your life, so learn quickly from everyone you meet."

I took a small sip of my wine for courage.

"There is no play tonight," she said in a tone of finality. "It is only about getting to know your surroundings. I will meet with you tomorrow afternoon at the Mansion promptly at two. Don't be late, my sweet." She leaned in and placed a kiss on my cheek, then turned and walked out of the cabana.

* * *

**AN: I want to give some massive cyper spanks to all of you who are reading this dirty little fic. Before we start getting down and dirty, if it gets pulled from fanfiction (cause it's been known to happen) it is posted at Twilighted as well. To all of those reviewing, you get a little extra sumpin' sumpin' under your pillow from the pervert faerie ;)**

**Pics of the costumes from this chapter are on my profile. **

**Reviewers get teasers! (And it will be a good one. The boys are coming!)**

**Recs: Misguided Ghost by MsMayfly & Discovering Bella Swan by mskathy**


	5. Chapter 4 The Consorts

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to MsMayfly & CandyCane for being my betas on this project. **

* * *

Chapter 4 - The Consorts

Friday April 9th, 2010 9:00 pm

~ Bella Pledge ~

I left the cabana feeling a sense of great anticipation. It was the start of my new journey and I couldn't squelch the beaming smile on my face from shining for the entire world to see. I was excited and nervous and anxious and thrilled. So many emotions wrapped up into a tight little sailor suit — with my ass cheeks hanging out.

"Beautiful night," a male voice said beside me, and I turned to find a big hulk of a man standing next to me.

"Yes, it is," I replied, taking in the ambiance of the evening with a large sigh. I turned to look at the new stranger. He was tall, probably pushing at least six and a half feet in height. He wore a black trench coat that hit just above his knees. It was archaic in design, held together by two decorative buttons at the navel. The golden skin of his bare chest was defined with ropes of muscle. He wore a black cross that laid perfectly between his sculpted pecs and when he smiled, the barest hint of white fangs protruded between his lips.

"Ah, vampire," I said, noting on his costume choice. "Classic rendition, I see," I added, pointing to his fangs with a nod.

"Yeah, I'm not into believing the whole glitter concept when it comes to the undead," he agreed, nodding his head in mock seriousness. "Fangs are a much more realistic characterization. How else would they suck the blood? I tend to think that just using sharp teeth would be something of a messy project."

I laughed, "But I see you neglected to don the pale white skin, my friend. Your complexion looks too healthy to be truly one of the night children."

"Well, I had to draw the line somewhere," he deadpanned. I laughed again, taking a moment to fully take in his appearance. He had a young looking face, one that seemed too innocent for the naughty pleasures his rock hard body promised. His features were chiseled and perfect, incredibly attractive.

"Jacob Black," he said, holding out his hand by way of introduction.

"Bella," I replied, remembering to leave out my last name this time.

"Bella..." he trailed off leadingly.

"Bella Pledge, I guess," I answered with a shrug. I knew he knew I was a Betty, for he had a goblet of wine in his hand, at the bottom laid a black stone. I guessed he was just trying to test my limits, see if I would mess up. I didn't know why, but I thought perhaps this was part of the whole anonymity thing. Either that or he was just trying to play coy.

"Ahhh, a pledge. I should have known. Didn't think I'd seen you here before."

"And you didn't?" I asked with a quirked eyebrow and sly smile, raising my goblet of red illuminated wine to his eye level. "Know, I mean...what I am?"

"Well, I might have had a tiny inkling," he answered flirtatiously. "I guess I might have seen your trial."

I blushed furiously.

"It was quite amazing, actually. Not what I expected from you."

"Why?" I asked, exasperated. I had found out earlier that night from Rosalie that she had the same opinion of me. Did I really seem like such a prude?

"Well, to be honest you don't seem the type to be into this sort of thing," he said with a shrug, running his gaze over my entire body. "You do have the bod for it, though. Jesus..."

I mumbled some sort of acknowledgement to his crass compliment, but my mind was still reeling about his earlier comment.

"What do you mean, I don't seem the type? For sex?"

"No," he said with a little chuckle, his eyes finally returning to mine. "For experimentation. For playing nicely with others, I guess."

"Well, what's the difference if I do it here in a safe environment, or if I do it among the masses? It's the same game, right?"

"I guess that's one way to put it," he said with a shrug.

"How would you put it?"

"Sex is just an act, Bella. A carnal means to satisfy our innate animalistic needs to get off. It's the sensuality that makes the difference, and until you lied down on the bed in that room, I didn't think you had an ounce of it."

"Why? Because I didn't pull out any toys to pleasure myself?" I was starting to get slightly offended by his tone. He didn't think I was sensuous? Oh, I'd show him...

"No," he chuckled. "But the fact that you didn't and were still able to complete your task is amazing to me. Very erotic..."

I blushed again but didn't break away from his gaze. It was smoldering, intense with lust and desire, and I could feel my body tingling with anticipation. He reached his hand up to my face and trailed his fingers down my cheek. He paused by my mouth, slowly rubbing the pad of his finger across the smooth skin of my bottom lip. I smiled as he pulled his hand away.

"It was your general appearance," he finally said. "I guess I wasn't used to seeing candidates dress so...modestly."

I was taken aback, trying to think of what I had put on that morning of the trial. I remember wearing my black knee-high boots and a low-cut wrap dress, but I thought that I had looked nice.

"Modestly?" I said the word slowly, trying to see where the pieces fit.

"Yeah," he nodded his head. "I'm sorry but that little outfit you had going on made me think you might've been interviewing for a teaching position, not trialing to get into a sex club. Add the fact that it took you a while to get going, I'd almost written you off from the get go."

"What did you expect me to wear?" I asked, indignant. "A see-through teddy with a garter belt?"

"Perhaps," he said. "Something that would show me your amazing curves; maybe a dress that would entice me to ravage you senseless, like that costume is doing right now..."

"The way I dress is classic elegance, Mr. Black," I said with mock superiority, trying not to let his words affect me. "It's not modesty for prudence sake; it's about the sensuality of mystery. Having hidden secrets that are only revealed to whom I choose...and when. Now, _that_ is sexy..."

"You're not comfortable in your costume, are you Betty?" he asked as he began a small circlet around my body, running his fingertips over my bare skin. His voice was deep and husky, and it awakened all my nerve endings where he touched me.

"It wouldn't be my first choice," I answered honestly.

"I'll tell you what I find sexy about this outfit," he replied. He was making the final turn around my still frame, coming to stand in front of me again.

"I like the fact that if I wanted to, I could flip that cup down that's barely covering your breasts in a flash and have your nipple between my fingertips just as quickly." I took in a stunted breath at his remark. A slow, delicious smile tugged his lips at my automatic reaction, and he took a step closer to me so that he was whispering in my ear.

"And that dress is so short, that if I wanted to, I could palm your bare ass, feel the soft skin bend to my ministrations. I could even give you an orgasm, right in the middle of the party, and I wouldn't even have to take your clothes off."

"That's a little forward of you, don't you think," I replied, breathless.

"No, baby," he answered with a deep throated chuckle. "It's not. I'm looking forward to showing you all the pleasures of suggestive clothing, my sweet Betty." With that, he took a step back, made a little bow, and left me standing there aching.

I glanced around the party surreptitiously, hoping no one noticed I was riled up and rearing to go — left charged like a livewire from my conversation with Jacob. Everyone seemed busy with their own dealings, so I took a couple thankful deep breaths to calm my rapid pulse.

I made my way over to the bar and ordered a Grey Goose martini, hoping a little ETOH would help me relax a little. The bartender asked me what color, and for a moment, I didn't understand what he meant. Then it dawned on me that he was asking what color stone. Minutes later, I had a martini glass sitting in front of me with a red ruby sitting on the bottom. I brought the glass to my lips and gulped, the liquid burning my throat deliciously as it went down.

_Purrfect..._

I leaned on the bar, sipping my drink and taking a moment to scan the area. There were several women standing by a lounge, eyeing me suspiciously. One of them had thick red curls that flowed around her like fire. She was practically naked, only the barest piece of black cloth covered her vaginal lips with a strategically placed green leaf attached to it. It connected with thin black cords to two leaves that barely covered her nipples. The same black cords weaved around her legs in a wide criss-crossing pattern. Everything else was bare, and I do mean _everything. _I guess it was a good thing she had a rockin' body. Otherwise, I might've felt a little nauseous with the unplanned peep show. She was eyeing me with a curious look then turned to speak to the others, giving me a different view. The black cords snaked around her torso to form a thong that left her backside completely exposed.

The women didn't look familiar to me, so I assumed they were just scoping out the new Betty at the bar. I hoped my hair was still looking hot and made a mental note to find the ladies room for a mirror check.

I finished my drink a couple moments later, then started to walk around the yard again. I caught sight of Jessica over by the cabanas and she waved to me with a huge smile. I was glad she seemed to have gotten her mojo back.

On the way to the facilities, I was stopped by two more men. One of them was actually really nice. His name was Seth and he had a great sense of humor. The fact that he was gorgeous didn't hurt things either.

He was dressed like a leprechaun. His torso was bare under the green vest that was pulled tight across him with the small, white buttons straining against the bulk of his chest. He wore black tuxedo pants and the top of the pants didn't quite meet the bottom of the vest, leaving a sliver of copper skin exposed around his waist that lead my eyes to the very enticing v-shaped muscles of his abdomen. His arms were not as big as Emmett's but they were still well defined. And while his chest was not quite as large as Jacob's, his features were similar. In fact, I asked him if they were related, which made him laugh profusely. He told me that they were second cousins on his mother's side, but were nothing alike. I thought that was a shame because Jacob was able to push my buttons in just the right way, and I was hoping Seth could bring him some competition. I guessed only time would tell.

The other one I met was named Mike, and he was something else. He was cute in a boy-next-door sort of way, but incredibly forward. He stuttered and spluttered slang words through an entire conversation where he told me I had, and I quote, 'a banging bod'. He was dressed as a firefighter, with a tight red and black jacket, unbuttoned and matching pants with suspenders. He was particularly proud of the fact that his underwear matched the outfit with a piece of cloth in the front that formed a hose. He made a point to tell me it wasn't nearly wide or long enough for his massive schlong. When he started talking about 'tappin' that shit', I had to excuse myself.

I laughed all the way to the bathroom; images of Will Ferre'l in 'Step Brothers' flashing through my mind. Seriously, Mike was the epitome of a white wannabe rapper in the nineties. I felt bad for laughing at him, but he was truly ridiculous. And the costume... Where did he find something like that?

His lack of social grace actually made me question how the Consorts got into the club, something I hadn't thought of until then. I thought to ask Seth about it, but then stopped myself. I remembered Rosalie's warning to direct all questions to her. I figured I'd bring it up in our meeting tomorrow.

I used the facilities quickly, making sure I applied some more lip gloss and poofed my hair just right. I ran into Angela on the way back out, and she seemed to be having a great time. She told me that her Dame's name was Kate and she seemed really nice. Her boyfriend was Garrett and she thought he was super cute. He was dressed as a Spartan from the movie 300, and she said his body was rock solid. I asked her if she'd met Mike yet, and she started laughing.

"Oh, yeah," she giggled. "He's hilarious, right?"

"I almost thought he was joking around," I laughed, causing Angela to snort. I figured she'd had a little to drink. "I mean, no one could be that oblivious, right?"

"I don't know, Bella," she chuckled. "Maybe he was kidding to throw us off. I hope so, anyway. He was kind of cute. And if he was right about a certain appendage, I wouldn't mind taking a look."

We talked for a couple more minutes while the bathroom was in use, then parted ways so she could tinkle, as she'd put it.

I was feeling good after my martini, so I decided to order another. The bartender placed my drink on the counter with my red ruby and I smiled at what that symbol meant.

I was a Betty, one of the lucky few who'd been accepted into an illustrious sex club that would change my life for the better. And as the alcohol flowed through my body, I felt every one of my cells come alive. I was more than ready to start this program, and I hoped that the night wouldn't remain so chaste.

* * *

**AN: Super big thanks to MsMayfly on this one. Her descriptions are kick ass. Way better than anything I could come up with. And Candy - did you see the change? LMAO! To my pre-reader inked-mom: eh, eh... BB, you are by far the best reader/reviewer/hardcore-biotch anyone could ask for. Loves to you...**

**And yes, for all of you who are uber-pissed at me that our Sex-tot did not make an appearance, he's next ;) **

**Reviewers get previews for the next one!**


	6. Chapter 5 The Sweet Sailor

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to MsMayfly & CandyCane for being my betas on this project. **

* * *

Chapter Five - The Sweet Sailor

Friday April 9th, 2010 9:00 pm

~ Edward Masen ~

I'd been watching her all evening as she made her rounds across the party. In the beginning of the night, I had been anxious to see her. I wasn't sure why, but her image had stuck with me since her trial, and I hoped I'd get the chance to talk to her in person.

She seemed to be an enigma even at the party, for she emanated elegance and grace even though she was dressed in clothes that were clearly out of her comfort zone. I didn't think she noticed, but every now and then, she would tug on the hem of her skirt or pull up the neckline of her dress, trying to get the clothing to magically cover more of her body. It was a pity, actually. Her figure was amazing and I wished she felt comfortable showing it off a little more. Perhaps that was something I could help her with in the long run.

Isabella was standing at the bar, sipping on a martini — the second of the night. And how did I know that? Well, I happened to be very observant; a person's quirks and habits spoke a lot about them, and it was what showed me their inner most thoughts and dreams; a talent I used to my advantage with women.

Something about her drew my attention, and I couldn't seem to figure out what that was. She seemed different than the others, like I couldn't really get a lock on who she truly was. She was contradiction in the flesh. Beauty with self-consciousness, prudence that was somehow alluring, and modesty with a spark of sensuality that had me purring inside. I wanted to know what made her tick, and that fascinated frustration she fueled in me only made me want her now. I didn't want to wait until the proper protocols and procedures were completed.

Fuck all that, I wanted silken sheets with sweaty bodies...preferably with her moaning my name at all hours of the night.

And I couldn't understand how I'd become so...obsessed with her. I was surrounded by beauty and sexuality; several women had propositioned me to join them over in the cabanas and all of them were gorgeous — stuff that wet dreams were made of.

Even some alumni had come onto me, though they knew that was strictly against the rules. After all, they were out in the community having sex with whomever they desired. And I had a clean bill of health and a written contract stating that everyone else was off limits, leaving me free to tame the Betties.

Up until that moment, I had been neglecting my duties as a Consort. There were five Betties in total, and I was supposed to be introducing myself to them as was customary for the beginning of the program. It was the part of the evening where we were supposed to show our softer side without the pressures and awkwardness that came with trialing. The Betties were under the assumption that the Consorts were starting fresh at the Cullens just as they were. Of course, they'd learn in time that wasn't the case, but we were supposed to remain elusive about that fact.

I'd seen some of the Consorts throughout the night, even talked to a few of them briefly, but I had by no means indulged in a full conversation with any of them as was my assignment for the evening. I'd been too distracted. Despite my diversion, I was able to fully appreciate the variety in the women offered to me.

Seeing the different brand of women in the Betty pool made me smile warmly, and I thought that the pickings this year were ripe and delicious, ready for the taking. That may have been crass of me to look at them that way, but honesty, how else was I supposed to feel?

Sex had become mundane to me. And I say that as a man who has had a plethora of experience on how to spice things up in the bedroom. I considered myself somewhat of an expert, as was the point of the program to begin with — for the Consorts, anyway. It was the Cullen theory that to be an adequate man in a relationship with a female, deriving pleasure from her body should be like second nature. I excelled at it, but I had yet to find someone to do the same for me, adding to the extensive dread I felt at the prospect of starting a new round of Pledges.

Sex had become nothing but an action; a motion of bodies without meaning. Yeah, it felt good to get off with a gorgeous woman in my lap, but when it was over, I wasn't left panting and crooning for more — having that desperate need to get my next fix like the women I'd pleasured. I guessed that was what accompanied sex without emotion.

Yes, there was thrill to see a newbie find exquisite pleasure at what I did, but really, that satisfaction for me was fleeting. I hadn't found anyone who could do the same for me and I was starting to believe that this whole Cullen thing was bullshit. The only time I'd ever found myself optimistic was when I saw Isabella in that room.

Maybe that was why I seemed to be so enthralled by her. She'd brought me an ounce of hope, something I hadn't felt since I walked through those doors almost two years ago.

And really, what had she done in that room that countless women don't do across the nation in their bedrooms? Even at that moment, there were probably hundreds of women masturbating to images of their deepest desires. What made her so different for me? Why was she able to spark that desire that had been dormant for so long in my gut?

"You seem lost, my friend," Jasper said, coming to sit by me on the white couches. I hadn't moved from that spot since Isabella had positioned herself at the bar because it gave me a direct view to her.

It was unlike me to be so sedentary at these parties for a multitude of reasons, but mainly because it wasn't prudent to be so antisocial when you were a Cullen. More was expected of me than that, but I didn't have it in me to care about that so much for some reason. I was sure Jasper picked up on it somehow.

He had an odd ability to sense when someone was off their game, especially when it came to the Consorts. He was like our unofficial counselor or some shit, always willing to talk about our feelings. No wonder he'd connected with Alice on her first trial with him...

He always had a way of getting to the issue at hand, and his comment was probably more accurate than I was willing to admit. So instead of delving into a famous philosophical discussion with Jasper, I decided to play coy and divert with my sharp wit.

"Not as lost as you. Where is your little woman?" It was jab and a deflection in one; Alice was incredibly small and Jasper had a soft spot when it came to her. I hoped he'd change the topic and she was always the perfect outlet for that.

"She's with her Betty, Angela I think her name was," he replied with a smirk.

_Bingo... A successful diversion, Masen._

"Alice always gets so excited for the new Betties to arrive, especially this time for some reason. She seemed to get along with hers from the start. Her Betty is really quite cute," he added as an afterthought. "They had her dress as a kitty cat, which is perfect for Alice really. Have you met her yet?"

"Haven't had the pleasure," I answered noncommittally.

"And why's that?" he asked with a knowing smirk

_Damn..._

"I'm just working up to it," I answered, hoping my tone was nonchalant.

"Since when do you have to work up to meet gorgeous women, Masen?"

"Fuck off, Whitty," I growled, using his much despised nickname the guys and I devised. Jasper had a thick southern accent and he loved anything country. That was probably why he decided on a cowboy costume for the evening. The name _Whitty _just seemed to go with him because it made him sound ignorant. He was anything but, having his degree in astro-physics, specializing in jet propulsion. Jasper was actually very intelligent, and I immediately regretted my rash behavior.

"Look, I'm just a little out of sorts tonight, okay."

"I see," he replied softly. "Getting sick of it?"

His question made me look at him and I saw a knowing expression on his face. When I didn't confirm nor deny his suspicion, he continued on his soapbox.

"I got that way about a year ago," he said with a shrug. "I was starting to feel like it was all pointless. I wanted to leave but he talked me out of it. Told me that there was someone coming for me that would change my beliefs about sex and pleasure."

"Who told you that?" I asked, curious but knowing I probably knew the answer already.

"You know who I'm talking about," Jasper replied with a bland expression, confirming my thoughts.

"He mentored me and led me through the hard times. It got so bad that I actually cried after one session with a Betty. It just felt so empty and pointless, and I thought maybe there was more out there in the real world and I was missing my opportunity at happiness for one man's silly theories."

I grimaced because I'd had those same revelations only days prior, and hearing Jasper say that he'd felt the same knowing how happy he was now made me ache inside. That kind of fulfillment with someone else just didn't seem in the cards for me, and I didn't want Jasper to fill me with false hope once again.

"I was wrong, Edward. And luckily he made me see that because Alice showed up in the next round. I don't like to think about what my life would be like if I'd left when I wanted to, but sometimes I do because it's important to see what I've been gifted. It will happen, just trust in that."

"That sounds all fine and dandy, Jasper, but I don't see that happening anytime soon," I bit out, trying not to let my deep desperation show.

"Really?" he asked, and his smug tone made me look at him in question. His eyes were trained across the yard, and I looked to see what he was gazing at. Isabella stood by the bar talking to one of our alumni members, laughing happily at something the man had said. The expression on her face made me smile, and I felt a sensation of joy flow through me just by watching her for a hidden moment in time.

"You haven't been sitting here staring at the trees, my friend," Jasper said with a chuckle, patting my knee as he stood to leave. I saw him adjust his gun belt before he started sauntering away, tipping his cowboy hat to a group of ladies as they passed by.

I sat there for a couple more minutes, thinking over what Jasper had said. I hated feeling so jaded all the damn time. That was definitely not the way I wanted to live my life.

I glanced up and looked at Isabella again. She was leaning against the bar, her back toward the counter, taking in the party with a subtle smile on her lips. The small dress she wore made her look like a sultry starlet. She wasn't wearing any of those knee high stockings that seemed to accompany every other chicks outfit that evening. Her legs were bare, bronzed, and smooth; looking like they went on for miles. The heels she wore emphasized the curves in her legs and the whole effect was quite pleasing. What made her different from the countless women showing much more skin that evening? Again, I didn't know or care.

As I watched her with skilled, probing eyes, I saw her shift her posture slightly. I looked up from her stunning figure and met her eyes. Deep pools of ebony and chocolate met mine in a heated gaze. I stared entranced as a faint blush colored her cheeks. It only added to her attraction for me, and I found myself wondering how her skin would pink when she climaxed at my hand.

From what I knew of her, she seemed to be the type of woman who wouldn't appreciate a man openly eye-fucking her in the middle of a party. I didn't care. In fact, she needed to come out of her shell and her training started tonight.

I made a point to let my gaze travel along her body, slowly taking her in, knowing she was watching me as I assessed her endowed assets fully. Her chest heaved as she took in a stunted breath, making the roundness of her breasts pulse in invitation as they practically spilled out of her top. The small of her waist joined supple hips, perfect for my hands to grab as I took her in carnal pleasure.

It was her legs where my gaze lingered the longest, and I could feel my mouth water as I pictured how they'd look thrown over my shoulder as I drove into her. Just then, she shifted position, and I glanced up to meet her eyes once more.

She didn't shy away from me as I openly gazed at her, and I could feel the corner of my mouth turn up at that fact. She was watching me with the same intensity, her eyebrows raised in question, silently asking me if I liked what I saw.

Yes, she may have seemed demure and tame when I'd first seen her at the trial — and even tonight she looked out of her element amongst the bare skin — but she was willing and able to face the headiness of it all, taking my blatant perusal of her in and giving just as much back.

She gave me a subtle gesture with her head, indicating the open space next to her with a teasing smile on her lips. It was as good as any invitation to me, and I stood from my spot on the couch and made my way toward her.

"Hi," she said silkily as I approached her. The tone of her voice was rich, natural. Not like the squeaky, high-pitched shrill that came with the Cali Bimbos in this town.

"Hello," I answered just as smoothly. "You must be Isabella."

"Bella," she corrected with a grin, holding her cocktail up to me to indicate her red stone resting at the bottom. "Is this the part where you tell me how much you enjoyed my trial?"

I laughed softly, watching as the corners of her plush lips turned up in a sly grin.

"This is the part where I introduce myself," I corrected, taking her hand in mine and bringing it to my lips. I heard her gasp slightly as I kissed her skin, and I couldn't help the sudden jolt of pride I felt at that fact.

"Edward Masen," I said in greeting, pulling her hand away from my mouth but not willing to let it go completely.

"Hmm, nice name," she replied, the subtle blush making a reappearance. "It suits you. Are you this charming with all the ladies?" she asked, pulling her hand away and gesturing toward the scantily dress crowd.

"Just the beautiful ones," I replied with a half-smile.

"Aww, what a smooth talker," she crooned softly, looking up at me through her lashes. "I wonder if that mouth sounds that nice in bed as well."

For the first time in my life, I was stunned. I never would have pictured her to be the type of girl who'd enjoy dirty talk, or even entertain anything more erotic than the missionary position. Suddenly I found myself wondering, would it break too many rules to start the trialing tonight?

* * *

**I want to say thanks to whoever is recing this fic out. I had a huge influx in readers and I'm super stoked about that. If you were rec'd the fic, let me know so I can give that person their proper dues.**

**So, what did you think about their little meeting? Need more? Give me a review and I'll make sure to update asap :D Edward's costume is posted on the blog, along with Jasper's**

**Recs: Freeze Frame by Jewels64 & Ethics Be Damned by Krazyk85 ~ Tell them I sent you over :D**

**Reviewers get a nice juicy preview of Eddie & Bellie :D**


	7. Chapter 6 The Sponsor

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to MsMayfly & CandyCane for being my betas on this project. **

* * *

Chapter Six - The Sponsor

Friday April 9th, 2010 10:00 pm

~ Bella Pledge ~

I'd seen him watching me from my periphery, his eyes fixated on me like a hunter tracking his prey. The heat of his gaze was sweltering; only that stark need of a man wanting a woman could spark such intensity.

I wasn't sure who he was, but I knew there was one more Consort I had yet to meet, so I assumed it would be him. I couldn't tell what he was wearing because he was sitting in the shadow of a tree. In fact, only the vague feeling like someone was watching me alerted me to his presence. I'd scanned the entire area, trying to find the eyes I could feel on me, only to see him look away from me once my gaze found his.

I took the small opportunity to really look at him then, stealing a hidden minute to be the assessor, instead of the assessed. His hair was a light shade of brown with subtle tones of red enlightened by the faint lights from the tree he sat beneath. His figure looked tall and thin, shaped with corded muscle over a manly build. I couldn't really see his face, for the lights only illuminated parts of him, leaving the rest of him a decadent mystery.

I tried to maintain an uncaring illusion, seeming to be preoccupied with the festivities and random guests of the evening. The reality was that he'd captured my attention since the moment I'd seen him sitting under a white-lighted tree, his probing eyes fixed intently in my direction.

As we sat in a heated mating dance, both chasing each other subtly, sending out sometimes blatant invitations towards each other, my heart began to race. I would steal covert glances toward him, trying to confirm if he was in fact a Consort with the telltale black-stoned drink. But he sat there empty handed, occasionally rubbing his large hands down his black pants as if he was itching to touch something else.

I could only hope that it was me his fingertips feigned for.

I was expecting him to come to me, wanting to introduce himself as the other Consorts had done, but I figured he must've liked to do things a little differently. Maybe he liked to watch me for a little while, knowing I would realize he was assessing his Betty and liking how he made me squirm under his steady perusal. Little did he know that I flourished under that kind of heat; like a hot house plant, I bloomed and rose to the occasion, making slight changes in my body language to entice him further toward me.

He became distracted for a moment, talking to someone who'd sat down next to him on the white couch beneath the tree. I watched him talk for a minute or two, trying to decipher him a little further as he indulged in a light conversation.

"You must be a new Pledge," a man said beside me. I turned to see an older gentlemen with dark black hair pulled together at his neck and tied back with a leather thong. He wore a black tuxedo in a James Bond type of rendition; very elegant and regal. His eyes were a sharp, crisp blue and his features were distinguishingly attractive for his age.

"Yes, I am," I replied, a subtle smile on my lips.

"Can I buy you another drink?" he asked with a nod toward the bartender.

"Oh, no thank you. I have mine already and I have to pace myself," I explained.

"Yes," he agreed with a small chuckle. "Wouldn't want you to get too crazy and out the Cullens in a room filled with Alumni and their unsuspecting guests."

"Are you...?" I trailed off, questioningly. The man held up a flute of champagne, a purple stone floating on the bottom.

"Yes, I'm Alumni," he said with a smile. "It was many moons ago that I graced these halls with my elegant charms," he added, gesturing with his arm in a grand gesture, making me giggle at his antics.

"I'm Aro Volturi," he introduced himself, and something in my mind sparked in recognition at that name. I held my hand out to his to shake, but he grasped it lightly and placed a soft kiss atop it. "I was one of the original founders here. I see that some traditions are still hard at work," he added, gesturing towards my scantily clad body. "You do look magnificent, my dear."

"Thank you," I mumbled, feeling my blush color my face slightly. Aro chuckled under his breath, gazing at me in a sort of revered way. It would have been really creepy to have some unknown old dude gaze at me like that, but he was really good looking so it kind of off set the awkwardness of it.

"Have you met all your suitors this evening?" he asked, returning his eyes to my face.

"Um, you mean the Consorts?" I asked, slightly confused by his terminology.

He laughed boisterously, "Is that what he's calling them nowadays. That man..."

I didn't understand what he was saying, but I just nodded numbly in reply.

"I don't think I've met them all, no," I replied, taking a sip from my martini as Aro nodded at my response.

"I can see that," Aro stated, glancing over toward the direction of the man sitting under the tree. I didn't follow his gaze, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that Aro had obviously witnessed our little flirting war we had going on, for it seemed so childish when we were surrounded in an environment bred for blatant sexual prowess.

"You know, my dear, I always looked at the time I was a Cullen as a privilege not many get out there among the throngs of the...how should I put it...horny cesspool?"

I laughed out right at his words, causing him to chuckle in response. "This program may seem a little crass at first, but in all honestly, it is the best thing I think for people like us."

"What do you mean?" I asked, intrigued that he seemed to pair us together in the same category without even knowing me.

"Well, the financially blessed, of course," Aro answered as if it was obvious. "Surely your parents sponsored you for this club, my dear. It is important that we don't get taken advantage of by those who seek our fortunes. You should know that we only keep members of those that our of a certain social class."

"Oh, yes...of course," I answered quickly, straightening myself slightly, feeling my guards coming up immediately at the mention of money. I'd known that it would come up eventually, especially when all the other Betties would rollup on move-in day in their luxury sports cars and I had my beat up Honda Civic, but I was hoping that day was far off.

The reality was that I wasn't really prepared to deal with it. I knew my book deal would be going through in a short amount of time, with a seven figure promissory note from my agent signed and sealed by the publishing house. If that hadn't been the case, there was no way I would have taken the offer for my friend to sponsor me. But still, knowing that everyone here _came_ from money made me incredibly nervous once again. I knew that those types of people acted differently, and I hoped that my meager upbringings didn't make me stick out like a sore thumb.

"Aro," a woman's voice called from the other side of the bar. I glanced over to see a breathtakingly beautiful older woman standing there, gesturing toward Aro with an elegant smile on her face.

"Ah, the wife calls," Aro said. "I truly hope that you get all the lessons this program has to offer, my sweet Betty," he said again, taking my hand in his and placing another gentle kiss on the top before he turned and made his way toward his wife.

I watched him walk towards her, the both of them sharing a small expression that alluded to some hidden meaning only the two of them shared. Once he reached her side, Aro took her arm and gently placed it in his, leaning over to press his lips gently onto her temple. Her eyes closed softly at the touch, and in that moment, I could feel the intensity of the love they shared for one another. My heart lurched at the scene, an unexpected sense of longing encompassing me.

The sudden flood of emotion caught me off guard. I never thought of myself to be at the period in my life when I would crave that kind of love. I knew eventually I'd want it, but not now; I was too young and had too much to experience before I was consumed like that. I was in a sex club, for god's sakes; I was definitely not in the right mind to seek love when I wanted nothing but pleasure without constraints I was so desperate so seek a program with a one hundred grand a term price tag.

But as I watched Aro led his wife toward the front doors, both leaning into each other and sharing a quieted conversation as they departed, my heart strings thrummed slightly at the sight. Maybe I was getting closer to that desire than I'd thought I was.

I glanced across the party, seeking signs of that kind of thing I'd witnessed between the Volturis among the other guests. Perhaps there was more to this whole Cullen thing than I'd originally anticipated. After all, Aro was Alumni and happily married to his wife of what seemed to be many years. I only deduced that because the woman appeared to be about the same age as him; he'd yet to trade her in for the common trophy wife the financially well-endowed seemed to have at his age.

The atmosphere at the party seemed to be changing, slightly melting away into a more amatory scene then it had been previously. The night was becoming darker as the hours waned on, leaving the party veiled and mysterious. Many of the older guests were starting to retire, leaving the younger Pledges, Consorts, and Mated Couples alone to enjoy the evening.

I saw a couple over in the corner, their heads bent together as they whispered into eachothers ears. Another threesome - a man and two women - headed toward the cabanas, choosing one of the canopies further away from the guests and pulling the top down for privacy.

Several other people were also showing signs of filtering off into selective groups, and I had the feeling that anyone left knew exactly what being a Cullen entailed; there were none of the uninformed guests lingering behind, and my heart beat picked up into a steady, excited rhythm at that prospect.

_Game on, Swan..._

A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. The man under the tree was watching me again, gazing at my body with that same intensity he had earlier. He intrigued me so much that I didn't shy away from his blatant assessment, positioning myself so that my body was on better display for his liking.

_Maybe Jacob did have a point to the benefits of seductive clothing..._

His gaze shot to mine just then. I quirked an eyebrow at him in question, silently asking if he liked what he saw. He intentionally let his eyes roam my body, pausing on certain areas he found the most intriguing. I felt my insides heat as he watched me, the carnality of it so severe and raw, it made my breath stutter in my chest.

Once he was done with his outright ogling, I invited him over with a slight nod of my head. A bare hint of surprise echoed in the back of my mind at my brazen confidence in front of so much sexual tension, but I chucked it up to the liquid courage I'd been consuming since I'd arrived. Plus, I was never the one to avoid attention, I just didn't like to advertise my assets for all the world to bid on.

As he approached, I watched the way his body moved toward me like a panther, all smooth lines and grace of an elegant feline. His gaze was sharp and intent on me, like I was his sole concentration in a sea of distraction.

Out from beneath the shadow of the tree, I could better appreciate his choice of costume for the evening. His black slacks were tailored to his body perfectly, hugging his waistline and hips, sitting just low enough to leave the swell of his groin slightly accented beneath the thin fabric. He had a tight, short sleeved collared shirt on that seemed like a second skin clinging to his muscled arms. A fitted, black pinstriped vest covered his torso with a skinny black tie down the middle. The only thing that was missing from his ensemble was a black fedora and a stogie, then the gangster would be complete.

As I had assumed before, he was tall and lean, with just the right amount of definition where a man needed it the most. His arms were toned and corded with obvious strength, but not overtly so. Perfect for grabbing me in the throws of passion. A man's ability to take control during sex, using his superior strength to contort a woman's body in a position better to his liking had always been a huge turn on to me.

It was his hair that bought most of my attention. It was all sorts of disarray, organized chaotically into a mess of bronzed brown, leaving me with a distinct desire to muss it up even further. I could visualize his tuft of silk between my legs as he pleasured me, feel the slick strands of it between my fingertips as if it ghosted across my flesh. I felt my fingers twitch with the need to reach out, and I could barely suppress the moan as he entered into my circle.

He approached me, his eyes never leaving mine. Once he was close enough, I saw that his eyes were a stunning shade of green, close to a deep jade with a hint of seaweed. They were gorgeous and erotic, and I could imagine how they'd gleam when his lids were hooded with passion.

When he was finally beside me, I felt my senses shoot into overdrive. We'd made some vague introductions that I barely remembered because I was so entranced by the way he smelled. It was a combination of passion, lust, and pure sensual male that created an overwhelming feast for my senses. I was lost in his essence, both in sight and in smell that I hadn't really watched what was coming out of my mouth; the presence of him was so intoxicating.

"I wonder if that mouth sounds that nice in bed as well," I had replied to a simple compliment he'd paid me, and I wondered where the hell my filter had gone.

_Probably in that puddle on the floor, right next to your soaked panties and inhibitions..._

He took a step closer to me, brushing his hand along the skin of my neck right below my earlobe, "My mouth can do a great many things in bed, my Betty. And I can't wait to show you exactly what I mean."

"Why wait?" I asked on a whispered breath, turning into his palm slightly so I could bring my mouth closer to his. Never in my life had I felt so confident with a man I was as devastatingly attracted to like I was to him. It was like all my walls I'd formed around myself out of habit immediately fell down.

He chuckled in a deep timber that made my insides rumble, "There are certain protocols to be followed. It is too early into the game to open play."

"I've seen others disappear into seclusion," I argued, hating that I sounded so desperate to my own ears.

"Those are members already in the program. You are still going through your trials," Edward chided lightly. I did remember his name, for it was shared with one of my favorite literary characters. I only wondered if this Edward was as loyal as he.

"No rule breaking?" I asked from beneath my lashes, trying my damnedest to entice him.

"Not tonight," he answered with a slanted smirk that incinerated what was left of my thin undergarments.

"How long have you been watching me?" I asked, my eyebrow quirked while a small smile tugged my lips.

"How long have you noticed me watching you?" he countered just as smugly.

"Hmmm..." was all I could think to say.

"Bella?" a high-pitched, far too energetic voice called from behind me, and I felt my eye lids squeeze together in frustration at my friend's perfect timing.

"Alice," I replied, turning to see my little best friend donned in the perfect costume. It made me laugh outloud as I truly took her in. She even did a little turn around so I could see her from all angles. She had on a blue top that only covered her breasts, leaving her torso and shoulders bare, except for the large poofs that hung down her arms as mock sleeves. The short skirt she had on was the same electric blue, accented by a small white apron in the middle. Her knee-high stockings were white with little black accent bows at the top hem. She had incredibly high-heeled maryjanes, and the little black bow she held her hair back in a sweep topped off the look perfectly.

"You like?" she asked as she was done with her modeling.

"Very much so," I replied with a giggle.

"Don't you think that's slightly overkill, pipsqueak?" Edward asked from behind me, his breath fanning across my shoulders leaving me in chills.

"Not at all," Alice answered, sticking her tongue out in such a childish gesture that it only added to the costume, making me laugh harder.

"So," Alice started, taking my arm in hers and dragging me away from Edward. I turned to see him watching me over my shoulder, trying to tell him with my eyes that I wanted to finish our heated conversation from earlier. He gave me a quick wink in compliance as Alice continued. "How is it going so far?"

"I'm really having a good time," I said with a wide smile.

"And the boys..." she trailed off knowingly. I glanced back at Edward to find him watching me intently, that same fire in his eyes from earlier unabated.

"They're...good..." I answered noncommittally. I heard Alice giggle beside me as my eyes were locked into Edward's trance.

"I bet," I heard her say. My head snapped back to hers, a sudden sense of jealousy flooding through me.

"Did you and Edward ever..." I trailed off, not wanting to finish that thought or for her to answer it. I knew that in the Cullen mansion, hook ups were frequent and steady; that was why we were all here, after all. But I guessed I'd never thought that equation through to its solution when I'd entertained applying. Alice had been a Pledge here, meaning we'd probably end up having a lot of the same...experiences...as each other.

"No," Alice reassured me quickly before my rampid thoughts got out of control. "Edward doesn't take on more than a couple Betties at a time." I wasn't sure why but what she said made my heart plummet. _More than a couple..._

I chided myself immediately, repeating internally that there were many men _and _women here. I was expecting before I'd met Edward to have several different partners while I was here, maybe not all of them men. Yes, I felt an immediate connection to Edward, but that didn't mean he'd felt it for me. He could've just shown interest in me because he found me physically attractive, as he should. I wasn't here looking for something more than sex, and I told myself again that I would stick to that mantra.

I didn't acknowledge the fact that I'd had to tell myself that several times in the short moments since meeting Edward. I wouldn't address that knowledge because it would mean that there was something more there and my heart was starting to get involved. The Cullens were only about physical pleasure, nothing more. And if I didn't want to get hurt in the process, I'd have to reconstruct those walls Edward seemed to have plummeted through earlier.

"Bella?" Alice's sharp tone pulled me out of my reverie. "Are you listening to me?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh, Bella," Alice chided lightly. "Come on. Let me introduce you to everyone!" Alice took my hand and led me toward a large rounded table where a few people were gathered.

"Do they know about me?" I asked Alice in a low tone. She looked at me in question, then realization donned on her and she turned away.

"No," she said quickly. "Only the owner knows I'm your sponsor, Bella. Everyone else only knows the barest of details. And no one is aware of your book deal."

"Good," I replied, nodding as I felt the heat of my embarrassment at my financial limitations ebb slightly. Alice patted my hand understandingly as we approached the others.

* * *

**AN: I'm sorry I didn't respond to a lot of the reviews this time. I hurt my back at work and its been hard to sit in front of a computer. I am so happy that so many are liking this little fic. Thanks to all of those rec'ing it out, especially Cullen312. Check out her fic, Embodiment. **

**Alice's costume is on the blog. Let me know what you thought about these two finally talking. And how many of you guessed Alice was Bella's sponser. **

**Reviewers get a preview!**


	8. Chapter 7 The Mated

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to MsMayfly & CandyCane for being my betas on this project. **

* * *

Chapter Seven - The Mated

Friday April 9th, 2010 10:30 pm

~ Bella Pledge ~

My best friend had the worst possible timing. Of course she thought it was necessary to barge into me and Edward's conversation, obliterating any hope of us breaking the rules and finding a secluded corner somewhere. And I _so_ wanted to find that vacant hidden oasis where only Edward and I were admitted.

I could picture him in his costume, all bulging muscles and...appendages, ready and willing to bring my body to heights I'd only dreamt of. In my mind, however, that tight, white shirt would have been mysteriously absent, leaving me a better view of his well shaped arms.

I was practically salivating for him, a reaction that shocked me because I was never the one to drool over a man. But I never got the opportunity to make my fantasy come to fruition because the tropical storm called Alice came blazing in, destroying my lust bubble.

_Bitch..._

She must have felt my hesitancy as she pulled me farther away from my dream boat because she leaned over and asked me what was wrong. I couldn't help the tiny glance over my shoulder as my eyes sought out his green ones once more. There he was, still leaning against the bar and giving me the most alluring bedroom eyes I'd ever seen. They made me go weak inside, and if Alice hadn't been holding onto me, I might have just melted into a puddle on the ground.

Alice laughed, having seen where my gaze was pulled, "Don't worry. You'll see plenty of him later." Her words were drawn out and laced with hidden meaning, and I felt my inner diva gleam in approval at her innuendo.

Having Alice at my side gave me a sense of familiarity and confidence that I'd been lacking ever since I set foot in the limousine earlier that evening. We'd met freshman year at Cal Poly. She was my partner for an entry level Biology course and we became fast friends. She was there for me through homesickness, my first heartbreak and my extreme sexually frustrated stage. She never hinted to be from a family with a large estate; she'd always acted like she was like me: on a full-ride academic scholarship and struggling to make ends meet with the bare income I had. In fact, it was only when she'd offered to sponsor me for this program that I found out she was loaded.

Now, sitting here in the middle of it all — with sexuality oozing off of every orifice, I couldn't be more thankful for my little friend. I loved her so much that I was willing to go with her as she dragged me away from my bronzed-hair Adonis.

Of course I had known she'd be there; she was the one who hadn't known I'd been accepted into the program because I'd never had the chance to tell her before the party. Now that I thought about it, however, I realized that she hadn't seemed as surprised to see me as she should have been. Perhaps she'd known more about my admittance status than she'd led onto, and I'd resolved to ask her about it once we were alone again.

In any case, we'd agreed not to acknowledge each other at the party until later in the evening, when all the formalities had been addressed, whatever that meant. I was glad I hadn't seen her up until that point because it would have been really hard to act casual around my bestie. She'd told me she'd let me know when that point had arrived. I guessed it had, for she led me arm in arm across the party, casually pointing out the different Alums of recent classes and Mated Couples.

"Have you met Rosalie yet?" Alice asked casually, waving at the woman in question from across the yard. She had Emmett wrapped around her as she waved back, his lips playing a sensuous dance across the skin of her bare shoulders.

"Yes, I have," I answered her shyly. "She seems a little...abrupt."

Alice laughed, "Rosalie just knows what she wants. As you can see, she trained Emmett well."

"She trained Emmett?" I asked, shocked. Was he the Betty, then? What did they call him? A Bobby?

"He wasn't the Pledge, Bella," Alice chuckled, reading my confused thoughts correctly. "The Cullens don't take male pledges."

"Then where do the Consorts come from?" I asked. "Don't they apply to the program just like the women?"

Alice stopped our movement just then, turning to face me directly as she placed her tiny hands on my shoulders. Her heels were taller than mine, almost situating us eye to eye. Alice was short in stature, making my five foot three height look average next to her.

"Listen, Bella. There are certain questions that only the Dame is supposed to address with you. I'm sure you've set a meeting with Rosalie to go over the details of the move-in, yes?" I nodded numbly. "Good. I don't want to step on anyone's toes, but Rose and I have talked. She agrees that when it comes to our friendship, there are certain things I will not keep from you if asked."

She was being so cryptic in the way she was talking, I was starting to become concerned. She could only tell me what Rosalie allowed? That sounded a little cultish to me.

"O-kaaay..." I replied slowly. Alice could tell that I wasn't exactly thrilled with what she was telling me, so she rushed to explain before undo panic set in.

"It's not like we have anything to hide, Bella," she explained. "The Cullens have ran their program a certain way for decades and it works. We've learned not to stray from the designated protocols by trial and error, no pun intended."

"Hmm," I said, not really knowing how to respond.

Alice began walking and talking again, her carefree nature from before returned. "Now, most of the guests left are either in the program currently or running the mentorship. Feel free to relax among their presence."

_Sure...relax amongst the swells of sexual tension and fornication. Go ahead, Bella...let it all go!_

_Right..._

"Some have stayed on for years; others leave when their designated time is served," Alice continued.

I wondered what kind of time line she was talking about when she said 'designated', but I kept my mouth shut, hoping I'd get more details in my meeting with Rosalie the next day.

"Some couples are more adventurous than others, but mostly we stick to each other. Monogamy seems to be a theme here once we find someone that sparks our interest, but there are those that don't know the meaning of the word. Speaking of which..." She stopped talking when the redheaded 'Eve' I'd seen earlier in the evening approached us. She was still in her near-nude glory, her breasts and hoo-ha barely being contained by her leafy fabric. The strings that tied her...ensemble...together looked like they were biting into her skin, and I wondered how the one residing right along her butt crack was feeling right about then.

_Ouch!_

She had a man dressed in a Hugh Hefner type outfit, complete with red smoking jacket and black silken pajama pants, holding her around the small of her waist; a couple of his fingers here curved around the string on her hip, pulling it down slightly with the weight of his hold. His looks were model-esque, a face with sharp angles and strong jaw line. His hair was in golden waves that reached the top of his ears, making him look like the epitome of a California surfer. The body that peeked through the generous opening in the front of the robe was a far stretch from Hef's wrinkled skin. He was trim and defined, much like the other men I'd seen that evening.

_Were they all bred for perfection?_

"Alice, nice to see you," the naked girl purred seductively, her eyes fixed on me hungrily. She was quite fetching, with a subtle classic beauty that reminded me of the Hollywood starlets in old black and white movies, except for the whole lack of modesty thing. Her vivid red hair was in soft waves that hit her upper back, full and thick. Her bright blue eyes were framed with heavy lashes, almond shaped and very lovely. But it was the expression on her face that made my jaw clench; it purred of seduction and dominance, and I wondered if what I observed reflected what happened in her bedroom.

"Victoria," Alice replied flatly, not showing an ounce of the bubbly, friendly girl I'd known for almost five years. I glanced at her questioningly, wondering what her issue was.

"And who is this tasty morsel you have? Your new Betty?" Victoria asked in a seductive purr, bringing my attention back to her. She reached her hand out to pet my hair like some Persian cat or something. The way she was looking at me like I was something to eat made me slightly uncomfortable. I was used to enduring the prowling looks from men. In fact, I quite enjoyed them, especially from bronze-haired gods that made my loins moist with their smell.

_Mmmm, where was that hunk of man meat at anyways..._

"This is Bella," Alice said, keeping her tone mild. It was the same one she'd use when she would try to covertly warn me against a shit head who'd try to pick me up at a club we were at in college. I recognized it immediately, sensing my guards rising as I met Victoria's stare with a challenging one of my own.

"I like her," Victoria crooned. "She'd go nicely with my Pledge, Lauren. I bet they'd play well together, too. Care to share?"

I felt the bile raise up my throat at her words. Yes, Lauren was a very attractive woman. And I had always been curious about some same sex experimentation — a desire I planned to quench while at the Cullens. But the idea of having anything to do with Lauren made me nauseous. She was a stuck-up bitch, flat out. And I was in no way attracted to that aspect of a woman. Give me a soft, supple goddess with enough assertiveness in the bedroom and I was all over it. But the bitch...well, I might just vomit.

"She's not my Betty," Alice replied through clenched teeth. I'd rarely seen Alice that defensive before, and I started to wonder exactly what the woman had done to make Alice react the way she was. "She's Rosalie's, Victoria."

I watched the skin around Victoria's eyes tighten slightly at Alice's words. She turned toward her man, the pair of them exchanging some silent communication that made me feel nervous for some strange reason. I watched as the man shook his head minutely, causing Victoria to break her stare with him and return it to me.

"I see," she said after a pregnant pause. "Well, I guess I will have to bide my time."

"Good luck with that," Alice retorted, not really giving me any clue as to what her issue with Victoria was. Based on what Alice had said earlier, I assumed that Victoria was one of the Mated that was a bit more adventurous in her relationship. I didn't think there was anything wrong with that, considering the environment and all. But something must have happened with her and Victoria to make her seem so closed off and defensive, and I resolved to ask her about that later. For now, I figured the best course of action was to follow her lead. She'd been my friend for many years and she'd never steered me wrong.

"This is my fiancé, James," Victoria said, nodding her head toward Hef without taking her yes off of me. I heard Alice scoff at the term 'fiancé', but I didn't turn and acknowledge her outburst because I wanted to keep things civil as possible. Victoria ignored it too but I could tell she heard her because her features stiffened slightly.

James reached out his hand, taking mine that was proffered. He raised it to his lips to place a kiss atop it like many of the men I'd met that night had done. But when his mouth touched my skin, I felt the faintest hint of his tongue peeking out between his lips to taste my flesh. He covertly massaged his tongue across my hand in a fast percussion, like butterfly wings. The sensation was incredibly creepy but erotic at the same time.

I gasped slightly in surprise. James backed away slowly, a sly smirk placed firmly on his handsome face as he released my hand reluctantly.

"I'm glad we understand each other," he said in a deep timber. I stood there stunned; completely grossed out yet turned on at the same time. The two reactions towards the pair of them had my mind reeling with a cacophony of mixed emotions. I never thought I'd be the one to enjoy any kind of threesome, especially in a situation where I wouldn't be the focal point. I mean, come on — would it even be worth it if I wasn't?

But there was something intriguing about the idea, and I'd be lying to myself if I denied the fact that the way the two of them looked at me didn't get my blood pumping. Maybe I was so riled up, sexually tensed from my previous interactions with the Consorts I was ready and eager to get things started, it didn't take much to push me over the edge. Perhaps I was desperate enough at that point I'd climb into bed with two people who Alice clearly indicated had no respect for people's limits.

_Maybe I should go hump that tree to make it clearer to those around me, Bella Swan is ready to play!_

"Have a good night, gorgeous," James said huskily, taking a moment to look at my body. He fisted his hand around the juncture of string that sat right above Victoria's ass and led her away like her costume was part of a short leash. She melted into him, taking that small amount of dominance he showed over her in public and made it heavily personal and suggestive.

As they walked away, I realized that Victoria and James emanated eroticism in every aspect of the word. They were not ashamed to be sexual beings; they seemed to flaunt it in fact. They were not hindered on what others would think of them, living their lives together as they pleased with no apology, and I couldn't help but admire them both for that.

My initial reaction to seeing Victoira, taking in how she presented her body openly and unashamedly, had made me automatically defensive for reasons I couldn't really pinpoint. I'd always hated blatant advertisement of eroticism because I thought it was rude and tasteless. I still believed that. Not everyone was that sexual and to display it gave off a sense of crassness I wasn't accustomed to.

"What the hell was that?" Alice growled once they'd cleared earshot, turning me towards her forcefully by the shoulders.

"What?" I asked, confused by her question because my attention was still diverted to the puzzling fact that my panties were damp from the previous exchange.

"That," Alice growled, pointing toward my face then looking in the direction that James and Victoria had left pointedly.

"He licked me," I replied, my tone reflecting the warring incredulity and fascination I felt inside. Alice rolled her eyes.

"Oh," was all she said.

"Oh? Does he make a habit of licking perfect strangers?"

"Let me tell you a little something about James, Bella," Alice said, taking my arm in hers and pulling me toward a collection of tables where other people were sitting. "He prides himself with what he does in the bedroom. He is incredibly boastful about what he can do with his mouth. In fact, I believe his mantra last year was that he could pleasure four women at the same time, using his mouth to make each of them cum over and over again."

_Oh..._

"Yeah," Alice agreed, taking in my perplexed expression. "It has been the absolute obsession of the pair of them to break in the Betties on the intricate nature of a multiple lover sex scenario, their words not mine. There have been a couple of occasions were they have overstepped their boundaries, and the owner has threatened to pull Victoria's mentorship."

"If it's such an issue, why keep them around at all? If they are all about swinging, why wouldn't they leave the Cullens and explore other clubs?" I wondered.

"One could only hope," Alice mumbled. "James has some sort of connection to this place, I don't know. He's never been very forthcoming with the details. In any case, I'm sure that other clubs are not as strict as ours in regards to our safety measures. James and Victoria know that everyone here is clean and on some sort of birth control. It's like an open field for them with no obligation, no matter how many they may hurt in the process."

"It doesn't sound like you have much respect for them," I commented.

"For Victoria, no," Alice answered. "For James...well...he used to be a lot different before he hooked up with Victoria, but I guess in the end they are perfect for each other."

"What's her deal?" I asked, ignoring the way Alice seemed a little forlorn when she talked about the way James used to be pre-Victoria. "I mean, you two don't seem to be on the best of terms."

Alice sighed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before she began.

"There was a reason you were paired with Rosalie, Bella," Alice whispered as she looked pointedly at Victoria. We watched her as she saunter across the yard, her bare ass cheeks bouncing tauntingly with every step. "That woman would eat you alive...literally."

I laughed, "Did you ever..." I trailed off, wagging my eyebrows exaggeratingly. Alice blushed.

"Oh god no," she said with a little too much gusto, shooing my question off in such an un-Alicelike motion it had me automatically questioning her veracity.

"That woman has no boundaries. Especially when it comes to Mated Couples who've been quite clear about their preferences and restrictions."

"Oh..." I said.

"Yeah. I am a pretty adventurous person in the bedroom, but my play only stays between me and Jazz, period. I don't want any nasty pootang dipped in my coffee; you know what I'm saying?"

"But Alice," I said, a little bite to my tone. "This is not the environment for being territorial, is it? I mean, we are here to explore our sexuality with different types of partners. How do you know you wouldn't like to play with someone like her? It's not like she's out sleeping with a lot of unknown people. Her playtime is restricted to the Cullens, right? She should be clean. Don't the Cullens require monthly testing?"

"It's different for me, Bella," Alice said; her tone was tense and I could tell that she was holding something back.

"How?"

"Well, I'm mated," she said, not going any further in her explanation. "Come on, I don't want to confuse you any further. Just know that Victoria is not someone to mess with, and if she gives you any trouble, tell Rosalie. She scares Victoria," Alice giggled.

"I bet," I laughed, picturing the two women in a heated exchange of words.

* * *

******AN: I know some of you are like, 'come on, Em. Hurry up with the lemony goodness.' I know you all want your release, but I like the slow burn. Come on girls, tell me it ain't better that way. First squeeze of lemon is coming up next, so give me tons of reviews to motivate the pumpage of the next chapter, no pun intended. LOL!**

**And James' costume is on the profilio, if you're interested.**

**Reviewers gets spanks and teasers, the good kind ;)**

**RECS: Just a Call Away by Hanah81 & Devil's Pitchfork by Blue25**


	9. Chapter 8 The Rule Breaker

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to MsMayfly & CandyCane for being my betas on this project. ~ Thanks guys for getting it back to me so quick so I can head on vacation with a post! Love you tons :D**

* * *

Chapter Eight - The Rule Breaker

~ Bella Pledge ~

As Alice and I approached the white linen tables, I noticed Angela sitting next to a woman in a White Bunny costume, laughing at something she had said. Next to her was a woman dressed as a sexy Mad Hatter, her hand resting on a man's knee, taking me in speculatively as we approached. In front of her was a small crystal flute with a white stone at the bottom. She must be a Dame, I mused.

I could tell that she was evaluating me in some way, and I had a strange desire to hold myself a little higher at her scrutiny, hoping I wasn't found wanting.

Her costume was low cut, leaving her ample breasts almost completely visible. Most likely it wasn't the cut of the costume that left her so exposed; it was just the amount of flesh she had made it hard for the poor dress to cover. Her waist was small and trimmed, hugged snuggly by a black velvet corset that was tied tightly beneath her bust line. Her top hat sat askew on her head, the signature 10/6 sign stuck inside the lining. I was actually surprised it didn't read 6/9, taking in the current company and situation. I giggled at my inner contemplation.

"What's so funny," she asked with a bit of a bite to her tone. It was probably because I was evaluating her just as she was me before I snickered.

"Nothing," I said, quickly composing myself in order to be introduced. I vaguely made a note that all the Dames seemed to have gone with one theme, except for Victoria, of course; she seemed the type that danced to the beat of her own drum regardless of what anyone else said. Alice in Wonderland seemed to fit perfectly because that was how I felt arriving that night, entering a land where only the completely obscure made sense.

"Carmen, Kate, this is my friend, Bella," Alice said in introduction. The White Rabbit nodded and smiled warmly, and I'd remembered that Angela had told me earlier her Dame was dressed as a bunny.

"Nice to meet you, Bella," Kate said warmly.

"Likewise, Kate," I replied. I turned quickly to the other friendly face staring back at me. "Hey Angela. How's your night been?"

"Good," Angela chuckled, making Kate giggle and lean into Angela. It seemed that my comment must have reminded them of some inside joke, and I resolved to ask Angela about that later. Perhaps she got the goods on one of the consorts, maybe having done a little rule breaking on her own.

_Damn, I wanna break some rules..._

Carmen didn't say anything to me at Alice's introduction, so I didn't acknowledge her either. I just kind of smiled in her general direction, not wanting to seem like a complete bitch but also not wanting to be taken as a lap dog. If she had a problem with me, fuck her. That was my motto for the evening, I'd decided.

_Too bad I couldn't fuck one person in particular. TMI?_

"And this is Carmen's mate, Eleazar," Alice said, pointing toward the man who was practically attached to the Mad Hatter by the hip. He had his right arm wrapped around her waist, his left hand between her thighs as his thumb traced intricate patterns on her skin. I noticed that the tips of his other fingers disappeared beneath her skirt, and I tried to look away as to not be caught staring at what he was doing under that little piece of fabric.

He stood briefly, breaking away from his mate and giving me a good glimpse of his barely-there costume. He was a football player, with only light pads on and white jersey pants. I wasn't sure if he was sporting a jockey strap, but he sure was packing something in those tight little pants of his. His body was rock solid, with washboard abs and arms that could lift a truck. I think I might have drooled a little bit.

"Bella," he said warmly, taking my hand and kissing it lightly in greeting. The feel of his soft lips on my hand with his mated woman looking on made me blush heavily. Not because he was ugly or gave me the creeps ― he was just like the other men I'd met: freakishly good-looking ― it was only because I felt the strong connection between the two of them. It seemed to run deep and solid. When he moved, she moved, and I could tell that they'd been together for a long time.

When he sat down again his hand traveled automatically back to his mates leg, his fingers massaging her skin in an intimate gesture. She leaned into him, almost like her body was seeking his warmth as if he was her security blanket. He wrapped himself around her once again, her head finding his chest as they shared a private conversation with their eyes.

It was so personal and heartfelt that my mind immediately remembered my conversation with Aro. The way he'd spoken about the program made me think there was something more to it. He had called the Consorts my suitors, which I thought was really weird considering that they were just going to basically be my fuck buddies until this internship was over. But he'd obviously learned something of commitment during his time here because he was still with his wife of many moons, and it seemed that they had remained madly in love.

I just couldn't reconcile a member of an illustrious sex club such as the Cullens with happily ever after. Could he really be content with just one partner after experiencing so much more? Then again, there were couples that liked to swing every now and then. And I guessed just because the club was like it was now, didn't mean it was like this back then. It could have started out as something completely different; maybe like a love connection for the rich and famous.

In any case, Aro didn't seem like the type of person who would want anyone else touching his woman. The way they had looked at each other as he showed her the way out spoke volumes of their love and devotion. Perhaps during his time here, Aro had learned what he wanted and found one person to fulfill his demands so much so that he fell in love. Maybe I'd find the ability to have that, too. Or maybe I'd just learn all the different ways I liked to be pleased, touched, and fucked, then call it a day and move on.

_Win-win, really. _

"So Bella, where are you from exactly? I haven't seen you around the LA hot spots," Carmen asked loudly, gaining not only my attention but the attention of everyone at the table as well. I looked at her then to see her eyes narrowed on me. She'd obviously seen me staring in the direction of her boyfriend's hand on her thigh while I was lost in my thoughts. I blinked a couple times, embarrassed at having being caught in an awkward situation, and tried to answer her question covertly.

"I've been living here for a couple years now," I said in a somewhat cheerful voice, trying to sound friendlier so she didn't completely skin me alive for being too...observant.

"Really?" she asked with a disbelieving look. "Why haven't I seen you around?"

"LA is a big city," I replied with a shrug. "I guess we don't hang with the same crowd."

"Hmmm," she mused with a quirked eyebrow, and I had a feeling she didn't buy into my bullshit.

"Bella went to UCLA with me," Alice spoke up sitting down at the table and gesturing for me to join her. I shot her a look because I didn't want anyone to know how close we were, except Rosalie of course. She was someone Alice was adamant I could trust. But anyone else I was sketchy about. She looked at me with an expression that pleaded for my trust before she continued. "She was in my English Lit class. I was just so surprised to see her here."

_Nice save, Alice..._

"Yeah," I said numbly. "Surprise, surprise."

"Angela's from Portland," Kate said, nudging Angela on the shoulder as she blushed furiously. I wondered why briefly, but was distracted by Carmen's Spanish Inquisition.

"Yes, I know. She was nominated by her Uncle Caius. He's a good family friend. My pledge Tanya and my family are also very close as well. Have you met Tanya, Bella?"

I cringed internally. Of course the Ice Queen would be paired with Tanya. "Yeah, we all met in the limo on the way over here. Where is she?"

I looked around vaguely, trying to seem truly interested but not really giving a damn where that bitch was as long as she wasn't giving Jess a hard time again.

"Oh she's over by the bar talking to Edward," she snickered. I glanced over to where I'd left him standing and found him talking to Tanya. She had her hands on his arm in such a gesture it looked like she was trying to feel his biceps or something. I watched as he smiled at her, giving her that half-cocked grin he'd flashed at me only moments prior.

Seeing him with her made my heart do a funny little jump, and if I didn't know any better, I would've thought it was jealousy. I shook my head slightly as I looked away, trying to rid my mind of those conflicting thoughts.

I wasn't here to form bonds with the men; I had no right to feel jealous if they were with someone else. That definitely wasn't why I was here. I had signed up for this internship because I wanted...what did I want? Sex? I was sure I could find that anywhere around LA on any given day, but I had chosen to be here simply to experience something that I craved: passion, eroticism, lust amplified by carnal sex. But most of all, it was to learn about my body ― what I liked, what I needed to fulfill that aching, stifling burn that other men in my past had failed to sate.

Could Edward give me that? Jacob? Mike? Okay, the last one was a little bit of a stretch. Based on our previous entanglements I was sure I'd turn into the Sahara Desert if he ever tried to touch me, but I was here to experience passionate sex in multiple ways with several different partners so that I could learn what I wanted in a man...or woman, if I found that I liked that sort of thing.

So why was I so upset at seeing Edward with another Betty?

The others continued to talk about a topic I really didn't have any interest in. My mind was preoccupied with the green-eyed Adonis across the yard and the viper in she-clothes entangling herself around him. She was all giggly and up in his personal space, and I couldn't help the small grimace that broke out on my face at the site.

I wanted to investigate my feelings further because if I was going to go all jealous harpy so early on in the game then I had no business being here. Because that was what this was: a game. A huge, fat, horny, fucked up game where there were multiple players and everybody won. I needed to check my bullshit at the door or I'd be in for a world of hurt.

I tried to pay attention to the conversation around me, I really did. But I'd caught myself occasionally glancing over toward the bar, wondering if Edward found Tanya as amusing as she seemed to find him. In the moments that the others were talking and I was internally berating myself, I finally decided that the only reason I was upset was because I wanted the chance to fuck him first.

I wanted to taste him and see how he could make me feel before any of the other Betties got their claws into him. I knew that Rosalie had said something about the guys scheduling their time with the Betty, but I wanted him damn it. Fuck all the others, they could wait and have my sloppy seconds. I wanted his eyes burrowing holes into my face as he plowed into me. I wanted his hands and tongue deep inside me, reaching and hitting depths other men could only dream of achieving. I wanted to claw his back while he ground me into a wall, plaster breaking and pictures falling to the ground as he slammed me over and over...

It was only when Alice leaned over to tell me that the limo was coming to pick us up in half an hour that I was finally back to being part of the here and now. I looked around the table to see if anyone noticed me lost inside my mind. Of course Ms. Observant was staring at me with a little quirked eyebrow. I guessed I must have made a new friend...

_Why are some women so damn catty...?_

"I'm just going to go freshen up. Make my rounds one last time, you know," I told Alice, but really I just needed to get away from there ― try to find my bearings again before I ended up making a fool out of myself.

I stood up from the table and made my way over toward the main house, attempting to remember the way back to the bathrooms in my slightly inebriated state. Once I found it I hurried inside, seeking a moment alone so I could gather my thoughts.

Had I originally expected to come here and find a man I felt an immediate attraction to? I would be an idiot if I didn't think it was a possibility. The place was crawling with beautiful people, all young with incredible bodies. It was bound happen. I just needed to get my wits about me, brush Edward off my shoulder like some pesky fly― then go out and hump the rest of this house until I was finally satisfied.

_Good plan..._

I took a moment to use the facilities, making sure all my parts were still nicely visible to the point of practical nudity, then I was ready to head out there once again. I wanted to seem confident and sure around these people, not completely distracted and horny as fuck, even though that was exactly how I felt. I mean, come on ― the place was screaming fornication. The sexual tension was wound up so tight I knew someone out there was breaking the damn rules tonight. Either that or there were going to be some mighty sore wrists and over worked pussies in the morning, with women in desperate need of some battery replacements by the time we were done.

_Yes, I said WE..._

I straightened my non-existent skirt, applied the tiniest bit of lip gloss, and fluffed my bedroom hair to its full capacity and headed towards the door. I contemplated taking a moment to fiddle the bean, anything to relieve some of the damn tension I was feeling in my loins, but decided against it. I needed to be alert, and a post-orgasmic cloud was not how I wanted to finish the night. Once I was home...well, I did mention the need for batteries, right?

I yanked the door open roughly, needing to get outside and into the air before I decided to take up residence in one of the upstairs bedrooms for a moment or two...or twelve. But I was stopped by a large, brawny, sandalwood and sex smelling obstacle in my way. My face was literally planted right into a well built chest, and I felt two hands reach out to steady me.

"You leaving so soon?" a melodic deep timber asked from the chest and I looked up to see Edward standing in the doorway. He let go of me once he made sure I was steady and took a step back as if to take me in better. He had one hand leaning against the door frame, the other dug deep into his pant pocket. He looked like a fucking model standing there with all shadowed lines and exotic male broodiness that I felt my body automatically respond to him.

Shit, I even heard a little fan girl screaming in my head. _Damn, _he was fucking hot!

"Hi, stranger," I purred with my lids half hooded. I felt my body move, adjust, and shift into a sexy tigress on the prowl. My chest was pushed out, my heels had miraculously grown another inch or so, and my lip seemed to taste really good in that moment, for it was stuck between my teeth. There was a moment where I asked myself what the hell I was doing, but I had no control over her at this point. My inner sex kitten was out and ready for action. I was probably being really obvious, but I didn't care. I was at the point where I wanted to sake my lust, and I hadn't been able to get Edward out of my head since Alice had pulled me away from him.

Edward pushed off the door frame, shutting the door behind him and leaving us both in seclusion. It shocked me slightly that he'd do something so forward, and I felt the nerves flutter in my throat for only a second before I shoved them down. I berated myself for being so childish. I was a grown, sexual woman who was aching for some male attention. There was no need for formality with him.

_Fuck that shit!_

I didn't get much time for my self-chastisement because Edward was standing above me, looking down on me with such intensity that my pulse automatically stuttered a skipped beat. He wasn't touching me, only looking at me. His eyes were hooded and searching my body for something that sparked his interest. He must have found what he liked because his tongue peeked out for a moment and licked his lips, just like a man would do before he devoured something that looked appetizing.

"I must tell you that I am quite taken with you," he said in a low tone, dripping of promise and hot sex. "I have never been tempted to break the rules like I am with you."

I felt his breath skim across my face as he spoke, sending a haze of sensuality over me. I could feel the heat of his body warming me as he edged closer, our hips and thighs making contact with our tight proximity.

"And what rule would that be?" I asked, proud that my voice seemed calm even though my insides were anything but.

"The one that forbids me to fuck you senseless right now, making you scream my name until your voice is gone for days."

I balked; my breath caught in my throat as I automatically took a step back from him, feeling my bottom meet the hard marble counter. We had become predator and prey in a matter of seconds, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins was simultaneously torturous and delicious.

"A-and that's breaking the rules?" I managed to squeak out, feeling a sense of fear and disappointment at the same time.

"Unfortunately," he replied, closing the distance between us so that I was pressed up against a rock and a hard place, pun most _definitely_ intended.

"Pity," I said, looking at him through my lashes and automatically becoming lost in his deep emerald orbs as he reached his hand toward my face.

"Complete shame," he agreed, running the tips of his fingers along my cheekbone, down to my jaw, and along my chin. The feeling of his skin on mine however faint had my blood boiling. I wanted more; I needed more.

I felt his breath on my face as he lowered his head toward mine. He ran his nose along my cheek, "But there is nothing in the rules that says I can't make you cum."

My breath caught in my throat at his words. His lips were at my ear lobe, taking the tip of it between his warm lips as his hands wrapped around my shoulders. The feel of his skin on mine sent chills down my spine.

"I don't want you to get into trouble," I told him, my voice weak and not real adamant. He laughed.

"No one is looking for us," he said in a deep timber, his breath fanning across my skin. "No one will hear us if you are very, very quiet."

"I don't get it," I said on a whisper, my eyes shutting automatically as his lips moved across my neck. His hands were traveling down my body, skimming down the slick satin of my dress. "Why is it such a big deal to be with me?"

"Less talking," he said as his lips met mine. Immediately my mouth parted, inviting him in. His taste finally filled me, and it felt like some kind of drug had entered my system. My heartbeat quicken, my breath left me in a gasp. He stole it, completely taking my air away with his touch.

My hands moved on their own, winding their way into the gorgeous head of hair I'd imagined between my legs from the first moment I saw him. The strands were thick and sturdy, and Edward didn't seem to mind when I tugged on it a little in attempt to get him closer to me. He moaned inside my mouth, wrapping his arms around my waist as he lifted me onto the bathroom counter. My legs automatically parted, wrapping around him so that I could pull him into me. I felt the burning in my center increase tenfold as his body lined up directly where I wanted him.

Edward's lips left mine as he began to explore my body, leaving a slow trail down my chin, along my neck and to my collarbone. I let my head fall back as his tongue snaked along the rounded mounds of my breasts, barely being contained by the thin fabric of my sailor dress. His tongue was long and pink, expertly seeking out my pointed tip that was barely contained by the silk. With a quick flick of his wrist, the top part of my dress was pulled down enough to grant him access to my plush pink skin.

He moaned, "Do you know how desperately I've wanted to do that all evening." I could only gasp in answer and his lips wrapped around my tip, his tongue laving the end of it in a slick caress that left me panting. His teeth grazed the end of my nipple, barely clamping down but enough to give me that sharp prick of heated pain that I'd imagine came with clamps and leather floggers. I groaned loud and deep, causing Edward to brush a warning across my wet, puckered skin.

"Shhh, my sweet Betty," he breathed, his lips feathering across my breast as he spoke. "Don't want to wake the neighbors."

I was so enthralled by what he was doing with my upper body I hadn't notice him start to explore the lower until I felt my dampened panties being pulled away from my body just enough so he could fit his fingers between my dripping core.

"Oh god," Edward breathed, his lips still at my chest as his fingers worked me into a frenzy. "Are you always this wet, this ready for the taking?"

"Only with you," I whispered, both because it was the desperate truth and because I wanted him to know what he did to me. My body responded to him more than it had to any other man, and I didn't know if it was cause he was that good, or if my body just seemed to crave his touch.

"I can't wait," I said as he plunged two fingers deep into my core, beginning a slow, pulsing beat that only fueled my desire further. His thumb met my clit, deliciously stimulating that familiar burn deep within me but to an exponential level I'd never experienced before. "I will be your first, do you understand that? After moving day, you will be in my bed. Say it," he growled. "Say that I will have you first."

"Yes," I whisper moaned, my head falling back as his teeth clamped down on my puckered nipple to the point of pain. "Yes, you can have me. Take me."

"Now, Betty," he said in a gush of breath. "Cum now. Show me what your pretty little body can do." I felt the tingling ache spread from my stomach, down my legs and arms. My muscles began to tremble, and a low moan escaped my throat as I experienced the most intense orgasm I'd ever had in my life. Edward rode me through it, bringing me down perfectly while still giving my body short little aftershocks of pleasure as he continued to massage my clit in slow, torturous circles.

When I opened my eyes, I was met with a sight I never thought I'd see in my life. Edward didn't look smug or self-assured. He didn't even look like he was left aching, in need of sating himself desperately. No, he looked almost...awed. Surprised but almost in a fascinated way. We stared at each other for several minutes, neither of us saying a word, only watching each other for any sign of disapproval or...guilt?...I didn't know.

A sharp rap at the door broke our heated daze, and Edward pulled back away from me so I could adjust my dress back into place. It didn't take but a second to do, and I quickly mused that perhaps Jacob had a point to short dresses and easy access.

Edward flung open the door just as I had finished primping. On the other side was a very pissed-off looking Rosalie. She stood with her arms across her ample chest, her booted foot tapping precariously onto the tiled floor.

"Well, don't you two look cozy," she said in a bitchy tone. I felt my hackles immediately rise until I heard Edward laugh out loud.

"Just talking, Rose," he said in light humor. "No need to unleash the she-devil."

"Don't make me have to, Masen," Rosalie answered. "I will not go through this again with you."

_Again?_

"No need for the third degree, _Mom,_" Edward sneered, making Rosalie scoff at his jest. He turned to me for a brief moment. I saw something in his eyes shift. It was so quick that I thought I could have been imagining it. But for one brief second, I thought I saw...remorse in his expression as he looked at me. "Betty," he said respectively, like an old southern gentleman saying goodbye to the woman he was courting.

I didn't know what to say, so I remained silent. Edward turned to leave, pausing for a second to give Rosalie a tiny peck on her cheek. Her eyes followed him out as he left, her expression pensive with a hint of contempt.

"I'll expect your request in the morning," Rosalie called after him, and I heard a soft laugh in the direction where Edward left.

I made my way to leave but was stopped by the vicious look Rosalie gave me as her head whipped back in my direction.

"You know these rules are here for a reason, Bella," she said with a sharp tone.

"We didn't fuck, Rosalie," I said with an attitude of my own. Who the fuck was she to tell me what I could or couldn't do, I mean really?

"Oh I know you didn't," she said with a slight smirk. "If you had, you wouldn't be able to walk for a month."

"Oh..." I mean, what could I really say to that? Oh, please? Yes ma'am, can I have another? Hot damn...

"Yeah," Rosalie said with a smile. She studied me for a moment, taking in my appearance, I surmised. Finally after a moment or two, she laughed. "I think you'll fit in just fine around here, Betty."

* * *

**AN: So, did the slow burn get squelched even a little? I have this complex because with my other stories, every time I post a hint of a lemon the reviews go down. I'm thinking it's cause I leave them all drooling *dusts off shoulders* but it could be cause I just suck at them. So, leave me some lovin' let me know what you thought, K?**

**Thanks to Krazyk85 and Shabbyapples for pre-reading this bad boy. They have both been freakin' awesome through it all. Costume pics on blog, if you're interested. **

**Reviewers get a teaser!**

**Rec: Chocolate Brown & Leather Whips by Krazyk85 (link on profile cause I'm the beta:)**


	10. Chapter 9 The Rules and Regulations

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to CandyCane for being my betas on this project. And thanks for Neliz for stepping in as guest beta this time while MsMayfly gets her computer fixed. Also I wanted to say thanks to my prereaders: krazyk85, shabbyapple, and mskathy!**

**Follow me on twitter (emilybowdn) for teasers and updates for chapters. We frequently run ideas for scenes over there. LOL! **

* * *

Chapter Six - The Rules and Regulations

Saturday April 10th

~ Bella Swan ~

After the night at the Cullen Mansion I had learned two very important things about myself. The first was that innately, I was a very sexual person. Perhaps it had been hidden inside me all along and just needed the proper environment to cultivate, but I felt like I was discovering new things about myself as the night went on, and I liked what I'd learned.

Or perhaps it was just the sexual desire in the atmosphere that brought out that side of me. Like they say, when in Rome...

But I thought that theory was pretty much shot when I got home to find that my pulse was still quick, my legs still weak, and my panties ruined in pool of lust and desire that the Green Eyed sex-on-legs had put asunder.

God, he was amazing. I had never come so hard and fast in my life. That fact brought so much hope and potential for bliss that I couldn't wipe the shit-eating grin off my face. The way he touched me, how he made my body curve and undulate to his demand, was short of epiphany inducing. In the thralls of it, the force of my body's reaction to him was so strong that I was almost afraid I was going to go catatonic. My toes had curled, my back had arched, and my thighs had quivered as I clamped down on his hands like a vice.

I'd never felt anything so overwhelming before, but it was like I'd discovered something that I almost _craved_ now to a sycophantic level. It was comparable to seeing the gates of Heaven open up to reveal a whole new world of light and pleasure. Edward Masen seemed to be the one thing that did it for me, but then, as I thought about it, that wasn't exactly true.

Which brought me to the second thing I learned about myself: I was very sexually confused. I thought every person I'd been introduced to that night had peaked my interest to at least some degree, except for Mike. Poor guy...

But honestly, if I was becoming one of those horny, overzealous women that only formulated their entire being to achieve what they wanted – one of those women whom I used to despise – just because I was given permission to be so, then I didn't know how I felt about the Cullens after all. Like I'd told myself before, if the program made me change who I was inside, then I'd be done. And the confusion laced with excitement of the night had me wondering – was I already starting to change?

So that was the main question flittering through my mind as I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection as the steam from the shower behind me started to fog the glass. My sailor dress was lying in a heap on the floor, the matching shoes discarded by the door when I first arrived home. In all my naked glory, I decided that was a good time to start contemplating my skewed motivations for getting involved with the Cullens.

Yes, I was excited and anxious to start my internship, but did I want the program to change who I was inside? Could it? Could sex and experimentation actually change someone's character? Could I become one of those women I hated? Could my priorities be changed, more directed into superficial pleasures rather than my worldly responsibilities?

_Maybe I asked myself too many damn fucking questions..._

"Yeah," my reflection answered. "Too many damn questions..."

Taking in my flushed skin, my rigid posture, and the excitement in my eyes reflecting back at me, I saw something different in myself that made me kind of smile. I looked...happy? No, that wasn't the right word. I looked...alive. I looked elated. I looked like I was actually starting to have that thrill in life that had been lacking in my day to day. Did I feel different inside? No, but I sure looked different.

"Maybe it's the fact that some sexy as hell mobster gave you the best orgasm of your life and your body's just feigning for more," my reflection chimed in again, and I couldn't help the internal eye-roll at her incessant need to point out the obvious. But still, as I watched my image put her two cents in, I couldn't help but notice the way my face lit up when that big 'O' was mentioned. The color rose high in my cheeks and a sly, sexy smile curved my lips. It was like I had morphed into something new right before my very own eyes. Not anything completely changed, just another version of me, almost like my inner sex kitten was shining through my stiff Bella exterior.

I liked it.

I liked how I looked all hot and bothered, ready for action. Not only how I looked, but how I felt as well. It wasn't confidence or some desperate need to fuck the next dude who cruised by my apartment complex that had me so enthralled. Granted, that probably wouldn't happen anyway due to the time of the night and my contractual constraints I was now under by the Cullens – a fact that made me smile once again to myself in the mirror – but I digress.

I liked my inner feline coming out to mingle, and the prospect that she could only add to my personality, not threaten who I was, made her even more appealing.

"Here kitty, kitty..."

I decided right then that I wouldn't let the Cullens change who I was on the inside. I could take their training and use it to build a better, more fulfilled me. I'd use what I learned to guide me, help me find what I truly needed, what I really wanted out of life. Tomorrow would be a new day, and I'd go into it knowing what to expect now.

Last night had been a little overwhelming looking back on it, but as I got into the shower, I resolved to remain open minded but also true to who I was, despite if others seemed to think my modesty was something to look down upon.

I woke up the next morning refreshed and ready to start my day. Of course, my level of relaxation might have been a result of the amount of orgasms I'd given myself last night in order to sate the need to find some kind of friction. I wasn't kidding about needing more batteries, and my little Bunny Wabbit – the gift I'd received from Alice last Christmas – was sorely depleted now.

I decided to go for a run that morning, both to fill my body with endorphins and to keep up the figure I currently had. It was apparent that the Cullens didn't admit people who didn't take care of themselves, and if I was considered amongst their ranks, I didn't want to be found wanting when the nakedness commenced.

I ran my average five mile trek around the neighborhood park, then headed home for a nice lunch and long shower. It was around twelve thirty when I started getting ready to head toward the Mansion for my appointment with Rosalie, my mind cleared of last night's self doubt and debauchery.

Now for the challenge: what to wear to said meeting. I wanted to be myself and not give in to the whole suggestive clothing jibe. If I learned anything last night, it was that there was a time and a place to dress like a ho-bag, and apparently at costume parties for sex clubs and while making a Porno flick both qualified. I was certain that during my internship, I'd be exposed to other such useful moments, especially if Jacob held true to his lesson on the finer points of showin' your biz to the world while semi-clothed, but I wasn't going to go in there displaying anything that didn't leave me comfortable. I wasn't a fucking prude, despite what my first impression must have portrayed to the Cullens. I had my own brand of sex appeal, and I was going in there with my guns blazing, so to speak.

That was why I chose to wear my empire wasted dress with matching peep-toe shoes. The length of the dress hit me right below the knee, but was cut in a fashion that the fabric melded to my form, making it look like a second skin. At the waistline, I put on a silver chunky belt that accented the deep plum color of the cloth. It also served as somewhat of a focal point, bringing the attention towards my chest where the scoop neckline revealed the rounded swells of my breasts, emphasized by a good push up bra from Victoria Secret. I wore my hair in thick curls, pulled back and pinned on one side to leave only a sliver of my slender neck bare, one of my best features. The only down point was that the dress was so tight to my figure that going commando was my only option as to avoid unseemly panty lines. My inner kitty purred.

The look was a signature of mine; it was subtle sexuality, leaving the men wanting more rather than feasting on the whole package up front. I'd always said there was something about mystery and intrigue that seemed to be lacking in this generation of women. My colleagues seemed to like to flaunt their crowned jewels rather than accentuate them. But I was under the faith that modesty and sexuality played hand in hand.

Maybe modesty wasn't the right word. Perhaps the qualities that made a lady had been grossly skewed, making women my age feel they needed to be on display to feel desired, at least that was the feeling I'd come away with in my twenty-five years on Earth. Even the attire the Cullens chose us to wear fell in with that theory. Whatever the case, it wasn't a prerequisite to dress in some boob and cooch showing outfit to meet my Dame, so I was wearing my own brand of hotness and headed into the lion's den.

And as I drove the twenty miles through the horrendous LA traffic, I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps I'd get to see Edward again... Maybe he'd be up for more rule breaking via some nice heavy petting. Edward's skillful fingers and how that made my body sing was what occupied my thoughts for the next thirty minutes or so as I drove.

Rosalie was waiting for me on the steps of the foyer when I arrived at the mansion promptly at two o'clock. She looked amazing in a tight pencil skirt with a red silk blouse. Her top was low-cut, leaving an ample amount of her cleavage bare. Her hair was like golden silk, falling in large curls around the middle of her back. Her lips were plump and shaded in the same color as her shirt. She was gorgeous, and I couldn't help but smile at her as I walked up the front steps.

"I'm glad you're here, Bella," Rosalie said as I followed her through the entryway.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" I asked, catching myself staring at the way her hips swayed as she walked.

"I was afraid we might have run you off last night," she replied with a small giggle.

"On the contrary," I said, forcing my eyes back to the general vicinity of her head while she led me up the staircase toward the dormitory level. "I found last night to be rather...informative."

"Funny," Rosalie said in a small voice, slowing down so she could lean in to whisper closer to me. "I thought you would have said you found it to be...orgasmic." I swallowed hard at her words.

"Well, I –"

"Don't worry, Bella," Rosalie laughed. "You're not the first pledge to bend the rules the first night. And your secret is safe with me."

I let out a sigh of relief as Rosalie started walking again, leading me down a different area of the Mansion than the small amount I'd already seen. There were rooms on either side of the hallway, all numbered like college dorm rooms.

"These are the member chambers," Rosalie said, pointing at the different doors like Vanna White. "The couples usually share a room, but the Betties and Consorts have their own quarters with private bathrooms. Each are luxurious and quite large. Yours is number sixteen, right next to mine and Emmett's."

She pulled out a large silver key from a small pocket in her skirt and handed it to me. "Go ahead. Take a look."

With an excited, gleeful smile, I took the key from her and unlocked my new room.

"We tried to decorate it to the Betty's tastes," Rosalie said as I stood there, dumbfounded. "Taking into account their personalities based on your interviews and profile information."

"Yeah," I replied numbly as I took in the large room. The walls were painted in a subtle taupe, with hints of clover green and burnt purple mixed into the decor. The style of the furniture was modern classic with a feminine edge, perfectly reflecting my personality. The satin drapes and throws gave a hint of sexiness, while the cream colored accent pillow in the shape of a rose in the middle of my new king sized bed added a certain flare.

Along the back wall was a large antique bookshelf stocked full with different kinds of literature. There was a small matching desk with a lamp light and a new laptop, perfect for writing my new book on my down time. It sat by a large bay window that overlooked the mountains surrounding the property, and I could imagine myself sitting there looking over the landscape for inspiration.

"You like?" Rosalie asked as she took in my slack-jawed appearance.

"Yeah," I repeated again, not really being able to verbalize appropriately it seemed. Rosalie giggled.

"Come here," she said, taking my hand and leading me toward the bathroom. "I want to show you something."

She led me through an arched door way that opened up into a huge bathroom. The floors were a cream marble. The stone ran along the countertops and around the large Jacuzzi tub that was the focal point of the room. The cabinets were white with an antiqued weathering. Oil-rubbed bronze fixtures on the sink, doors, and bathtub gave it the final touch. In the back of the bathroom was another large archway, leading to the massive walk in closet that was filled with rows of clothes covered in plastic garment bags.

"Those for me?" I asked, turning to see Rosalie watching me as I assessed my new digs.

"Your size," she said in confirmation. "The dresser is loaded with lingerie from the top boutiques in town. Everything a girl could want..."

"Cool," I said stupidly, turning around in a large circle to take everything in once more. That was when I noticed a large portrait on the wall in the bathroom, right next to a little vanity station. It depicted a nude woman, her back toward the onlooker as she sat in front of her lover. They were caught in an intimate embrace, and it was the most beautifully sensual picture I'd ever seen.

"That's one of my favorites," Rosalie said, coming to stand next to me admiring the artwork. "It's so, I don't know..."

"Passionate," I answered for her, my eyes following the soft lines of the woman's back and how the man was holding her closely.

"Yeah," Rosalie agreed. "Passionate. There are several clips like this throughout the house, mostly in the upstairs chambers for propriety sake, but each of them are very stunning."

"I love it."

"Come on," Rosalie said after several moments. "There's more to see."

She began a general tour of the estate, showing me where the kitchen was and educating me on the schedule for eating times. Apparently the Mansion was fully staffed with a cooking team. Gourmet meals were made three times a day and promptly served at nine, one, and six o'clock on the dot. The kitchen didn't close or anything, she just said that we were responsible for heating up our own food outside of the scheduled times.

_Oh, Lord no..._

The back yard I had already seen the night before. Well, I at least saw a part of it. Off to the East side of the house was a large veranda, equipped appropriately with Greek styled columns covered in ivy, small gardens, and a huge rounded fountain in the middle. Beyond that was a large eternity pool, giving the illusion that the end of it was falling off the mountain the Mansion sat upon. It was breathtaking.

"If you want a private evening in one of the pools, just make sure to tell me and I can arrange for one to be booked," Rosalie said quickly, as if in passing by.

"Private pools?" I asked in a stunned tone, glancing around quickly to see where said pools could possibly be held.

"Over there," Rosalie laughed, pointing toward a group of trees that looked like the beginnings of a large forest. "There are several guest houses with indoor pools on the premises. One day when we have enough time I'll take you over there."

Now that I looked closer, I could see the tops of a couple roofs sticking up above the tree line, and I started to wonder exactly how much money the Cullens had to have in the bank in order to afford staffing and maintenance for the grounds.

_Guess with a hundred thousand dollar price tag, the perks are expected..._

We paused on the back patio by the eternity pool for some drinks that one of the staff brought out to us as Rosalie started explaining more about moving day.

"It'll be next Friday," she said as she poured herself a Margarita from the pitcher. "That will give you a week to pack and finalize any business you may have about address changes. Most pledges keep their apartments, which I think is the smartest thing to do."

"Why is that?" I asked, remembering how Alice had done the same thing while she was interned here.

"Well, just in case things didn't work out here," she said as if it were obvious. "Things can get a little tense around here, especially with girls who let their emotions dictate their training. When one gets too attached to one of the Consorts, things could get bad and they want to leave."

"I see," I said, nodding my head as I poured myself a drink.

"It's happened before," she said as she leaned back into her seat, meeting my gaze steadily. "There's also the rare occurrence of the Cullens asking a pledge to leave. It doesn't happen often, but if they are kicked out, there is no grace period for arrangements. They are gone that same day."

"What were the circumstances for that?" I asked, intrigued.

Rosalie sighed. "Not sure. We tend to be pretty private, respect each other's business, you know. It must have been something major though. The girl was in tears."

"Hmmm."

"Why did you apply to the program, Bella, if you don't mind my asking?"

"That's a good question," I sighed, running my hands down my thighs in nervousness. I didn't know what she expected me to say or if this was some kind of test, so I just went with honesty and let the chips fall where they may. "Initially, I did it because I was sick of what's out there for women my age. I don't like the way the modern man has become such a pig, only looking out to get his and move on. And it was getting harder and harder to tell them apart, you know?"

Rosalie laughed, "I know exactly what you mean. I was dating this guy once and did the whole 'hard to get' thing with him. He tried and tried to get with me, promising me that he was legit and really wanted to be with me, but I just kept him at an arm's length. Finally, I let him take me out once. When I didn't put out for him that night, he called me a fucking tease and left. Never heard from him again."

"You don't know how many fucking times that has happened to me," I said with a chuckle. "It almost seems like it's a challenge for them. They wanna get you to say yes so damn bad that they make you feel interested, then once you do, the game is over; they've won and took your pride as a reward."

"Well, that and a fuck hawt night of fun," Rosalie added.

"Yeah, that was the other reason I joined. Not finding any 'fun' out in the sea of little impotent fishies out there."

"So I've read," Rosalie said with a sly smirk. "You really haven't had a man give you an orgasm?"

"Well, not until last night," I admitted, my face heating at my confession.

"I knew it!" Rosalie laughed, her head thrown back as she clapped her hands in front of her. "Fucking Masen, always quick to break the rules."

"What rules?" I asked, smiling and feeling a little relieved that my Dame didn't go ape shit on me for my little fuckery with Masen. "You guys kept talking about that last night. And Alice won't shut the hell up about it."

"You done with your drink?" Rosalie asked, picking up her glass and shooting the rest of the lemony goodness. I followed suit and got up to go inside.

We headed toward the second story again, this time taking the hallway that led to the room I'd done my trial in. Rosalie opened the first door to reveal a large room surrounded with glass mirrors. There was a round, red couch in the middle of the room, and a couple chaise lounges in different corners. There was a crystal chandelier in the center of the room. The soft light sent rainbows off the prisms that hung from it, illuminating the ceiling like a Technicolor disco ball.

"Come sit down, Bella. And we'll get started on some of the house rules," Rosalie said, gesturing me toward one of the lounges. As I sat, Rosalie walked around the room casually.

"This is one of our play rooms, Bella. In fact, all the rooms on this wing are playrooms. We restrict playtime here. There is no sex in the personal chamber, except for the Mated, of course. The purpose of that is so each member has a personal area for sanctuary. Your room is that for you. The playrooms are for sex. And believe me, you'll be thankful for that distinction later. This one is usually reserved for a multiple player scene, but it will serve its purpose for us today."

"And what purpose is that?" I asked, nervous and excited at the same time.

"Talking, Bella," Rosalie said, pausing from her circlet and looking at me with a grin.

"Oh, of course," I said, embarrassed.

"Relax, Bella. If you're up for some play, that will come later, okay?" I just nodded in answer.

"I want to start off by saying that you do not have to do anything you are not comfortable with. I know that should go without saying, but sometimes peer pressure can influence a person's judgment and I don't want you feeling trapped in any situation. You can always come to me about anything. In fact, I'm hoping that you'd like to set up a time where we can debrief on your training. It's customary to do so but the Betty has the right to keep things private if she wished. Totally up to you."

"I'd like that," I said, smiling at Rosalie as she smiled back.

"Good. Now there are a couple things we have to go over that may be a little uncomfortable for you to hear. Sometimes, this part of it sits wrong with the Pledge, and we've even had one decide to leave before things even got started."

Rosalie paused as she looked at me expectantly. Part of me became really nervous at her words, but another, bigger part of me was incredibly intrigued.

"There are cameras in every room of the house, Bella," Rosalie said, studying my face for my reaction. "I know how that may sound, but they are up for protection more than anything else."

"Why?" I asked as sudden visions of me on screen in various positions with different partners flashed through my mind. Why would they want footage of that? What would they do with it if I decided to leave? Black market porno tapes and clips on the evening news about a sex scandal came to mind. I didn't like the sound of that news, and I thought Rosalie could tell what I was visualizing because she was quick to answer in a reassuring voice.

"They are there for our protection, Bella. Think about it. You are in a house filled with both men and women who basically want to screw each other's brains out. There have been instances, however, where certain Betties don't click with a Consort. You have a right to refuse any invitation to play you may receive. Well, it happened once where a Consort didn't like the rejection, if you know what I mean..."

"Oh," I said, realizing suddenly that the environment here could be the perfect scenario for shady things to take place. And in that moment, I was almost glad about the cameras being there.

"The owner is the only one who has access to the videos, Bella. And he has sworn that they are not viewed unless absolutely necessary."

"Okay," I replied, not really knowing what else to say because I wasn't exactly sure about how I should feel. It was one of those things that would have to fester in my mind before I could come to any real conclusion.

"Okay," Rosalie said, the tone of her voice a little relieved. "The way scenes are done is the Consort invites the Pledge formally through the Dame by giving her a written, contractual statement about the scene."

"So you'll know what we're doing?" I asked with a quirked eyebrow, wondering exactly where the privacy was in this place. Were the toilets filmed too? The statement 'Big Brother is watching you' suddenly felt like a vast understatement.

"Yes," Rosalie confirmed. "We won't know the details unless the scene is under observation, of course. But again, it's for your protection. It is so we have a written record of who is with whom. Also, it helps to facilitate your training. I'll know what you've experienced and learn what your preferences are based on what you accept. Then we can begin to understand what you like and don't. Make sense?"

"I guess," I replied.

"Good," Rosalie said, coming to sit next to me. She placed a hand on my bare knee in a comforting gesture, but immediately I felt my body temperature soar at the feeling of her skin on mine. "And may I say, Miss Hot Thing, that you made an impression last night. I've already received two invitations this morning, and I believe they were made before the party was even over."

"Really?" I said, excited. "From who?"

"Nah huh," Rosalie said, laughing as she nudged my shoulder playfully. "I'm not telling you until after Moving Day. Plus, you have an observation scheduled for next Saturday before you can play."

"An observation?"

"Yeah. It is exactly what it sounds like. Come here." She grabbed my hand and led me out of the room and down the hall. Near the end, we went through a small door that led to a dark, narrow hallway like a secret passage.

"Where the hell are we going?" I asked with a giggle, feeling kind of like a child going on a wild adventure, except this intrigue was wrought with sex and desire. I internally giggled at that thought.

"The observation deck," Rosalie said, flicking on a light to reveal a large room as long as the size of the entire wing and about as wide as a small washroom. There were chairs on platforms one side facing the other side of the room like a small auditorium. I looked to see what they were facing and found myself looking into a playroom where a couple was actively going at it.

"Oh," I said numbly.

"Two-way glass," Rosalie said, standing next to me and staring at the couple in the thralls of it.

"I see," I said, watching as the woman placed herself in the man's lap. Her head fell backwards as she began to ride him, his hands grasping her hips roughly to help aide in her movements.

"So..." I began, pointing at the chairs and then gesturing toward the glass, not really able to formulate a full sentence.

"Yup," Rosalie answered, understanding my sexually stunted charades. "And on Saturday, you'll be observing a BDSM scene with one of our mated couples who live the lifestyle. It can be kind of hardcore, and we ask all the Pledges who've noted some interest to see it before they begin. The couple is very…versed…in it."

"Really? Have I met them?"

"Um, yeah. Any guesses on who they are?"

"I have no idea," I laughed, following Rosalie as she turned to leave. I couldn't help but glance back at the couple before she flicked out the lights.

* * *

**So those of you who received teasers last time around will not that the clip was not in this chapter. That's because this chapter was HUGE and I had to cut it in half, and the teaser just happens to be in the second half. The next teaser will be different, so it would be like you guys received two teaser instead of one. Win-win!**

**I want to say thanks to those of you who are recing. This story was rec'd by the TwiPimps and over at the Fictionators. Huge hugs and bootie grabs to you guys!**

**There are pics of the outfits and the rooms on the blog, so check them out! **

**Reviewers get teasers!**

**Recs: Lethal Virtue by TheBondGirls**


	11. Chapter 10 The First Experience

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to CandyCane for being my beta on this project. And thanks for Neliz for stepping in as guest beta this time while MsMayfly gets her computer fixed. Also I wanted to say thanks to my prereaders: krazyk85, shabbyapple, and mskathy!**

_This is a short rant, and I'm sorry for anyone who is going to be like – 'wtf, Em', but it needs to be said. I know a lot of you reading do not write fanfic, and some of you do. To those of you who are readers, I want to say that I adore you all. You are the reason why I write the stories that I do. Your comments mean the world to me because they are raw and honest, and constructive. _

_Recently, a fellow writer of mine was publicly mocked on an open forum. The person that did it was NOT a writer, but felt that she was justified to do so because she felt that as a writer, we should have 'thick skin'. I must say that I was appalled at her behavior. It takes a lot for us to write something and put it out there for the world to see. We take time to create a piece of art and what you all say in your reviews really is our payment for doing so. To have someone so callously critique something, not in a helpful way or to the writer personally, is just disheartening. It is people and instances like that which make us not want to write any longer. _

_So please, be kind to those authors who put their work out there. If you don't like it and can't find something constructive to say, move on. It's that simple. There is not growth for an author when they are made fun of or treated poorly... It just makes us give up..._

_End of Rant_

* * *

Chapter 10 – The First Experience

~ Bella Swan ~

"I think you'll fit in just fine with us," Rosalie laughed as we left the Observation Deck.

"Yeah, you've said that before. By the way, you haven't told me yet about how Edward and I broke the rules last night."

"Well, there is no play outside of invitations for a Betty and her Consort, Bella. That is strictly forbidden."

"Why?" I asked, not understanding the logic at all. "We're all adults. So what if I want to do it on my own time."

"That's not what this program is about, Bella," Rosalie scolded, her firm voice from the night we met making a reappearance. "If you want to go about fucking the world, you can do that on your own time outside of the Cullen Mansion. I've already told you that the scheduling is for not only your training, but for your protection as well. We need to know who you are with and when, to keep us all safe. It may seem like overkill, but we have done it this way for decades now and are not changing because you and Edward want to get frisky in a bathroom."

"Okay, alright," I said calmly. "No getting busy with Masen, got it."

"Who's getting busy with Masen?" a male voice asked from behind us, and we both turned to find the Sailor from last night walking toward us. He was more like strutting rather than walking, almost like he thought his jockey was too big for his strap or something like that. Out of his costume, he was still really good looking. The shirt he wore was just like any other tee a guy our age would wear, except it was tight on his biceps, accentuating his strong arms. Again, it was semi-drool worthy.

"Hey, baby," Rosalie crooned, melting into his open arms and placing a small peck on his thick neck.

"Beautiful," Emmett replied, giving me a small wink as he kissed Rosalie's cheek.

"Bella, this is Emmett," Rosalie said, gesturing to the big hulk of a man beside her. "I don't think you two properly met last night."

"Hi," I said, giving him a small wave and smile in greeting.

"Hey," Emmett said, wrapping his arms around Rosalie's waist and nuzzling her neck.

"I asked him to join us Bella because I want to talk to you about something," Rosalie said as she smacked Emmett playfully, making him pull back slightly and give me another wink covertly. I giggled. "That is, if mister horn-dog here would let me be."

"Impossible, baby," Emmett said, giving Rosalie a little swat on her bottom. She glared at him as she grabbed my hand, leading me down the hallway toward the door of another playroom. The room was the same one I had done my trial in, and I immediately felt more comfortable in it for some strange reason.

"Sit," Rosalie said, gesturing towards the bed as Emmett took a seat on the white couch by the fireplace. "Let's talk for a minute, Bella. I know Alice told you that all questions are to be directed through me. I know she also told you that you were paired with me for a reason. You mentioned that you were interested in having a sexual encounter with a woman, correct?" I just nodded as I felt a slight blush color my cheeks.

"Well, that happens to be something I'm interested in as well, if you want."

I glanced at Emmett quickly, noticing his relaxed posture. He had his arms spread wide on the back of the couch, one leg resting at the knee of his other, and a wide smile on his mouth as he listened to Rosalie's spiel.

"Um, alright," I said hesitantly. Not because I didn't want to try being with a woman, or that I didn't want to be with Rosalie. She was fucking gorgeous and would make any woman consider doing a pitch hit, but I didn't know how well I'd do with being watched.

"That's something you'll have to get used to, Bella," Rosalie said, correctly assessing my apprehension. "Like I said, voyeurism is a huge part of the lifestyle here. You'll watch and be watched. I know it may be hard to get used to at first, but it really makes it more...intriguing if you just let yourself go."

"Okay," I said with a shrug. "I'll try."

"Good," Rosalie said, standing behind Emmett as they both looked at me with a hungry look in their eyes. That alone had my blood boiling, and I started to feel my palms sweat just a little.

"I believe it is safe to assume that you've had inadequate lovers in the past," Rosalie said as she leaned over and kissed Emmett on his neck. His hands automatically reached around her head and caressed her silken treasses.

"What makes you assume that?" I asked as I watched them, that pain in my heart from the night before at seeing their intimate exchange returned just briefly, but I wrote it off as embarrassment at being present to witness their obvious love for each other.

"Well," Rosalie said as she began to walk towards me, taking a seat next to me on the bed. The smell of her perfume wafted over me as she sat, and I felt my head become a little cloudy at the heady smell. "You've stated in your profile that you have only climaxed five times, and all by your own hand. And I doubt that whatever man you were with wasn't watching you do it, taking a tutorial on how to please his woman." I scoffed at that, eliciting a little giggle from Rosalie.

"What douche kinda guy were you with, Bella-bean?" Emmett asked. "It should have been his top priority to please you."

"Agreed," Rosalie added, looking at Emmett with raw lust. I noticed her hands rubbing up and down her thighs as she looked at him, displacing the fabric so that I could see a little more of the silken skin of her upper leg.

"If you learn anything here, Bella, it will be that you deserve to be pleasured to a man's utmost ability," Rosalie said, drawing my attention away from her creamy skin to her face.

"Or a woman, in this case," Emmett added with a chuckle, and I spared him one glace before I looked back at Rosalie. I saw nothing but sheer determination in her eyes as she said that, and at first I thought she must have been joking with me. Who would really be so adamant about that fact that they'd try to drill it into me like some psychiatrist with a victim of depression? 'You're worth it!' or some shit like that.

"Okay," I said slowly, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind her words.

"I'm serious, Bella. Your pleasure is important. It is what will make you feel calm and balanced, and the one thing in this life that will make all your frustrations just...fly away."

She acted like it would be my saving grace or something, and I almost laughed at her for being so wrapped up in coming of all things.

"I want to show you what I mean, Bella," Rosalie said, leaning into me more. I held my hands up, palms forward.

"What about the whole invitation thing," I said, not wanting to get kicked out for violating another policy or procedure. "Don't we have to do this formally or some shit?"

Rosalie and Emmett laughed. "It's different for us, Bella," Rosalie said. "Emmett and I are the only ones that can play with you when we want. It's one of the priveledges of being your Dame. But we will always be together and I won't let you have sex with my man. That part of him is just for me," she said, looking at Emmett hungrily as he blew her a little smooch.

"Okay," I said, bringing my hands down and placing them on my lap. Rosalie put her hand in mine. I felt myself go stiff suddenly on instinct, and Rosalie jumped right in with her coaching.

"This is just about feeling, Bella. I know it's your first time, both with a woman and being watched. You set the pace, show me how far you want to go." She positioned herself closer to me as she said this, and I could literally feel the heat coming off her body and melting into mine.

I knew that I could do this. I knew that I wanted to do this. It was just going to get me a little while to get started. Especially knowing that her boyfriend was sitting across the room, watching us intently.

Rosalie fingertips slowly moved along her neckline, lingering on the skin by her collarbone. She caressed herself, letting her fingertips dance along her silken flesh as if she were showing me how she liked to be touched.

"Do you find me attractive, Bella?" she whispered as her head fell to the side, her fingertips following the rounded trail between her supple breasts.

"Very," I breathed, watching her movements closely.

"Do you want to touch me?" I nodded, unable to formulate words as my gaze rotated from her sensuous skin to her heaving breasts as her shirt parted, revealing her bare and ample mounds to my viewing. "Where, Bella? You can touch me anywhere you'd like."

"I-I," I muttered, my mouth going suddenly dry. It wasn't the first time I'd seen a woman topless. Far from it, actually. It was just the first time I'd ever wanted to put my mouth on a breast before. The first time I wanted to touch a woman intimately, making her moan my name as I pleasured her repeatedly.

"It's okay, Bella," Rosalie said through a giggle, making her chest jiggle just slightly. "It's alright to be nervous. I'm not going to hurt you. It's only me and Emmett here, and he doesn't bite."

I could hear Emmett make some kind of feral growling sound from the couch. "Well, he won't bite you, anyways." Rosalie laughed.

I felt my face heat and my fingertips shake as I slowly reached my hand out toward her. First, I touched her right below her collarbone, watching as her chest rose and fell with each breath she took. The room was silent except for the pounding of my heart reverberating in my head, but I felt my determination thicken as the softness of her skin registered in my brain.

She was silk and satin, and the way her breasts heaved at my touch made my mouth water. Slowly, my fingers trailed downward, not really touching her, just kind of grazing along her rounded flesh, barely giving me a hint of her feel. It was incredibly erotic being that close to her but not fully touching, almost like she was some kind of forbidden fruit I couldn't take until told it was alright to do so.

"Touch me, Bella," Rosalie whispered. "Feel my body and show me how you want to be touched." At her words, I felt my body move closer to hers. I dropped my hands and placed them on either side of her hips on the bed, bringing me closer to her as she smiled seductively. She arched her back, presenting her beautiful chest to me like an offering. Our legs were touching as I leaned into her, bringing my mouth closer and closer to her pink tip. I heard Rosalie take in a stunted breath as my mouth was mere millimeters away from her, and I glanced up through my lashes to meet her eyes. Lust, passion, and heat shone back at me, and while keeping her gaze, I flicked out my tongue to tease her plump nipple.

"Mmm," Rosalie moaned, and I could hear Emmett shifting on the couch. Only using my tongue, I teased and licked her nipple until it was nice and taut for me.

Before I fully took her in my mouth, I glanced back at her and saw her watching what I was doing. Her head was lolled to the side as she watched, her hair spilling down her side like a silken curtain. My lips wrapped around her little bead, and I started to suck and tease her until she was moaning.

I liked the way her nipple felt on my tongue, liked how it tickled on the skin of my lips as I ran them across her teasingly. I like how responsive it was to my touch, puckering and rounding for me like a supple fruit ripe for the taking. I wondered idly as I sucked her why the men I'd been with just skimmed over this part without paying their due homage.

Rosalie had the most perfectly proportioned nipples, just the right little sized beads for my mouth. Her breasts were large and firm, the skin looked soft and supple. I just had to feel.

Repositioning myself so that my leg was bent on the bed, I reached a hand up and grasped her neglected breast, massaging and contorting her flesh in my palm. Rosalie's head fell back as I worked her, and I inwardly smiled knowing that I was bringing this beautiful woman pleasure with what I was doing to her.

"God, Bella," Rosalie said, lifting her head so that she could look at me. "You sure you've never done this before?"

"No," I breathed, blowing the air across her wetted nipple, making it pucker even more at the sensation.

"Mmph," Rosalie groaned, and I smiled before my tongue snaked out and teased her even further. I felt her hand reach for my knee, rubbing the skin there back and forth absently as I continued my work. I didn't know how far she wanted to go with this little experiment – I didn't even know how far I was willing to go – but I knew I didn't plan on stopping any time soon.

My hands traveled from her breasts toward her neck, and when she looked at me again this time, I pulled her face down toward me and kissed her fully. Our tongues and lips danced and mingled, leaving us panting and aching to get even deeper.

I realized then briefly that kissing a woman was much different than kissing a man. Her lips were softer, more pliable, and she tasted like a faint hint of mint that I usually didn't catch on a guy. But the most significant difference was that she kissed me back like a woman, and what I meant by that was she seemed to know how I would like to be kissed. She knew instinctively when I wanted to go deeper and when I wanted to tease. She knew how hard to suck my lips and when to play with my tongue. She knew not to force anything on me, but read my body language to show her what I liked. She was attentive, and I wondered if that was because of her training, or because she was a woman.

_Perhaps I should start rethinking my orientation if this is an indication of what a woman's like..._

"Bella," Rosalie said, taking her lips from mine and trailing them down my neck.

"Yeah," I breathed, closing my eyes at the sensation and bending my neck to give her better access.

"I want to touch you," she said, bringing her hand from my knee and trailing it up my thigh toward the hemline of my dress.

"Okay," I said, my hands going on a little discovering adventure of their own.

"I want to see you," Rosalie said as she pulled on my clothing. She wasn't really putting any effort into taking the offending material off. She was just tugging in a way that I got her distaste for the obstacle.

"Okay," I giggled, pulling away from her briefly so I could undress in front of her. I unhooked the belt on my waist as Rosalie discarded her opened blouse completely. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs, leaving me a wide view of her lower body and the white thong she had on. She leaned back on the bed onto her elbows as she watched me.

I started with the zipper in the back of the dress, pulling it down as far as I could, loosening it up so it fell from my torso easily. The back was going to be a little bit more difficult because of the fit of the dress; I'd have to unzip it fully so it was wide enough to pass my hips. It was then that I realized I didn't have any underwear on, and I smiled at that little hidden nugget of goodness I held in my back pocket.

_See, eroticism hidden beneath a cookie crumb exterior. Let's see how Rosalie feels about going commando..._

I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall toward the ground aimlessly before I finished the job with my dress. When it finally fell to the ground, I looked at Rosalie to see if she liked what she saw.

"Mmmm, Bella," she said. "You're beautiful..." She reached her hand out to me. "Come here."

I took her hand and let her pull me onto the bed. She positioned herself above me, straddling me but not putting any weight on me. She bent down and put her mouth on my breasts, teasing and nipping like I'd done to her. Then she began to kiss me again, but it was more passionately this time, more heated. The feeling of her breasts rubbing against mine as we kissed was highly erotic, fueling the desire to be with her even further than before.

Rosalie trailed her lips down toward my chest again, her hand moving in patterns along my body. I could feel her getting closer and closer to my core, and I was feeling that she might be hesitating because she didn't want to push me further than I was willing to go. Maybe she was trying to confer with my body language, making sure she was reading my signals right before she continued, but I didn't want to wait any longer.

"Touch me," I told her, giving her that permission she seemed to be seeking.

Rosalie's fingers were on me then, automatically touching me in the place that made every woman on Earth squirm and writhe and moan. She worked me expertly, knowing exactly how much pressure to use and which way to move. I was panting and shaking, my hands pulling at my hair as she worked me over. Her mouth on my breasts, her fingers on my clit, I was close to coming undone.

"You look so good beneath me, Betty," she told me, her words sweet and filthy at the same time. "The way your body moves, the way you feel... I want to taste you, Bella. Is that okay?"

"Yes," I panted, practically snarling at her to touch me, taste me, anything to make me feel that thrill again. "Please."

I felt her move down me, spreading my legs even further until my heels dug into the mattress, then falling open for her. My pussy was bare and aching for her touch. I felt the tips of her fingers run down my lips, teasing and testing my response to her. I felt my thighs tense around her, wanting to shield myself from the unknown. But Rosalie carefully eased my legs apart once more, placing small kisses long my groin as her fingers continued to graze me.

"Relax," she said, using her thumb to massage my clit. Her other fingers were doing other things to my bits that I couldn't describe because I wasn't sure if I was imagining it. It felt like she had one finger pressed onto the small section of skin between my vagina and asshole. The other seemed to be tracing small circles around my opening as her thumb pressed on my clit. The combination of sensations had me reeling.

"Please," I breathed. "Please..."

"Does this feel good, Betty?" Rosalie said, inserting her finger into me as she bent her head toward my clit. She wrapped her plush lips around my nub and began to massage it with her tongue.

"Yes," I panted, my head pushing into the mattress as my body arched. My legs parted completely wanting her deeper into me as my hips automatically pushed toward her. She took advantage of my offering, devouring me with her tongue, her lips, her touch...

I could feel the strength of my release building deep within me, churning and undulating inside my core. It was different this time with her. With Edward, I had come so hard and fast that I was left breathless and wanton. With Rosalie, it was different. The anticipation and anxiety of trying something new hightened my experience, accenting my lust and passion with a hint of excitement that I usually lacked when I was with a man.

When Rosalie kissed me, she did it with passion and trust. When she touched me, she did it considerately and fondly. And when she licked me the way a woman should be licked, I felt my insides burn into molten lava under her skill.

My legs began to tremble as the heat built inside me. My breathing became labored in short little pants, and incoherent words poured from my mouth as the mixed sensations ran through me.

"That's it baby," Rosalie breathed onto my clit, making my heat grow to a roar. "Come for me. Let me hear you, sweetheart."

As my orgasm ripped through my body, it felt like each one of my nerve endings were channeled toward her touch. The softness of her fingers, the feel of her silken skin pressed to mine, made me feel cherised and open in a way I never felt before. And when she opened her mouth and spoke in her sweet timber, encouraging me while telling me how beautiful I was, I came undone.

"Fuck!" I growled as I felt her mouth on me, pulling me through my release until I was spent. Rosalie licked me, bringing me down from my orgasm and working me into the beginnings of another one quickly.

I glanced down, wanting to see how it looked to have a woman between my legs lapping up the release she'd just bestowed upon me. Her hair was fanned out on my thigh, her ass held up in the air as she worked me over. She looked so good, gazing up at me while she ate my pussy. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen, and it made me escalate into another round of passion and heat as my orgasm built once more.

I noticed Emmett from behind her, watching us going at it in that same position he'd held earlier. He didn't look as relaxed as he did before, however. In fact, he kind of looked like he was in pain. Rosalie noticed where I was looking and paused to glance over her shoulder. She turned back to me and came up by my ear to whisper.

"Mind if Emmett comes to play?" she asked, biting her lip as she waited for my answer.

"No," I said with a sly smile. "Let's play..."

* * *

**The Betty Blog is finally revamped. I spent countless hours trying to figure the crap out. It's not the best, but it will do for now. Go check out the new stuff, including our own Observation Deck, dedicated to inkedupmom who loves to point out the finer points of voyuerism. LOL! The link is on my profile. **

**I want to say a big thanks to mskathy who provided the pic for the Observation Deck. She's the best at the porn fishing ;) And she was an awesome prereader for this fun scene, giving me tips on how to make the munchies even hotter! Thanks friend :D**

**Reviewers get a teaser!**

**Rec's – Guarding Bella Swan by coachlady1**


	12. Chapter 11 The Mentor

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to CandyCane for being my beta on this project. And thanks for Neliz for stepping in as guest beta this time while MsMayfly gets her computer fixed. Also I wanted to say thanks to my prereaders: krazyk85 & shabbyapple**

* * *

Chapter 11 – The Mentor

~ Edward ~

"I don't get it," Mike said, munching on his bowl of popcorn like a fucking pig. "I mean, we seem to go through the motions of this bullshit every time we get a new batch of girls. Can't we just take them for a test drive and see if we need to toss them in the junk yard if the parts are no good?"

The way he was chomping on his food, smacking his lips between each word, was almost nauseating. I could hardly stand to be around Mike as it was, but add his crass commentary and...food...I'd about had it.

"There are formalities that need to be addressed, Mike," Seth replied calmly, and I was glad the guy had enough patience to deal with the douche bag. I'd personally met my quota of annoyance the moment the shit-head opened his mouth. Thank god Seth had the temperament of a saint.

"I don't see why," Mike smacked through his corn. "I mean, why give them false hope? They are here for our pleasure, aren't they?"

I laughed. For once in his daft life, Mike had a point.

"That's not the purpose of the program, Mike," Seth argued with an agitated sigh. "It's more than that."

"Don't tell me you're falling for that rhetoric, too?" I asked him, my expression amused. I didn't want to be so morose about it, but lately this whole program seemed to be so mundane. And my conversation with Jasper last night didn't lessen my sour mood about it at all.

Seth just looked at me blankly, not answering my question. "Fuck, dude. I thought only the mated shits around here talked that way," Mike laughed as he took in Seth's silence as confirmation to my question.

"Maybe it's because they get it," Seth retorted.

"No," Mike argued hotly. "Maybe it's because they found some good pussy and are now eyeballs deep in that shit. Believe me, once all these mated couples leave this place of free fornicated bliss, their blessed unions will crumble and fall, just like the fucked up logic of this place."

Between each word, he was spewing bits of popped corn around his mouth, making him look like he was born in a barn. I cringed slightly, kind of grossed out by him, and part of me thought that maybe I should question the fact that my worsening opinion of the program seemed to coincide with that of a hair-brained idiot. I didn't let myself ponder on that fact too long. I didn't want anything clouding my internal debate anymore than it already was. Not now. Not after meeting her...

Isabella Swan turned out to be more than I expected. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Something about her trial had set my blood boiling from the beginning. I just didn't expect her to be so passionate and erotic as she was last night. The way she moved, how she moaned beneath me as I made her come had set my blood on broil. The little sounds she made, the way she panted, almost like she was shocked that I could make her feel that good, got to me in some way I couldn't explain.

I tried to tell myself that it was just male pride causing me to feel so...possessive. I knew for a fact that Isabella hadn't had a descent orgasm by a man. It was shamefully pathetic, but it gave me a sense of ownership that I could forever say that _I_ was the man to give her one: her first one.

The pledges didn't know that we had access to their personal file. They were under the impression that they were only for the Dames, used only to cultivate their program to fit their specific needs. In reality, they were for us. It gave us the inside scoop, allowing us that hidden glimpse into the Betty's psyche to better meet their needs. If I listened to the Cullen theory, it was supposed to train us to better decipher what our partners needs were. To train us how to pick up on the little cues a person gives their lover to let them know what they liked and disliked, in and out of the bedroom.

I thought that was utter bullshit...

Personally, I thought the misleading nature of the program set up a foundation of lies and deceit. How could they trust us later when we'd lied from the beginning? But I guessed that my thinking was just way off, because that was the way they'd run this place for years.

Besides, these women that applied to the program were only out for one thing: to get fucked good and plenty. And I was here to oblige. I was like a stud in a way. An empty, meaningless, destitute stud that was only used to help fulfill some wayward fantasies of some of society's royal princesses.

Fuck, the whole thing was getting really tiresome...

There was something about Isabella, though. She had a manner about her that seemed intriguing in some way. She didn't fit the mold of a typical Betty, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what that difference was. Maybe she didn't seem as pathetically eager as the other ones. I knew she was — witnessed her desperation up close and personal — but she didn't permeate the atmosphere with her desire like the other women did. Her need was subtle, covert, and that fact made her more appealing somehow.

"All I'm saying is that there might be more to all this shit than sticking your dick in some random female," Seth replied, pulling me out of my thoughts and back into the debate at hand.

"Says the guy who's been eye-fucking every broad that walked into the joint last night," Jacob said with a snort, speaking for the first time. He'd been resolutely silent throughout our conversation. And part of me forgot he was sitting behind me, seemingly in his own little internal debate. "Don't act like you don't enjoy the highlights of the Mansion, man. I know you better than that."

"I never said I didn't enjoy it," Seth replied with a cocky smile. "I just seem to have more respect for the underlying rationale behind the program, that's all." The way Seth sounded like a scolded prepubescent with his hand caught under the neighbor's skirt made us all laugh hysterically. It was only made worse when Seth flipped us off in irritation.

"What about you, asshole?" Seth asked Jacob, turning to look at him as he spoke. "You've been quiet during this little discussion. Care to weigh in?"

Jacob stared straight ahead, seeming to have not heard him, though we all knew he did.

"Jake's with me and Masen on this one," Mike answered smugly, and again I cringed at finding myself in league with a jackass.

"I can see both points of view," Jacob replied, still maintaining his trance straight ahead. "I've seen love bloom here personally, but I've also seen both men and women destroyed by this place."

"So why stay?" I asked, truly curious. "If there's nothing but loneliness at the end, why go through the rounds again and again?" I wanted to know because it was the same question I'd asked myself countless times.

It wasn't like I was closed off to being mated. It was my rationale for coming to the Mansion in the first place. But after finding nothing but the stale and flat breed of wealthy women who grazed these halls, I found my confidence that it would happen for me dwindling to nothing.

Jacob turned to me then, looking at me for a moment with a blank expression.

"Hope," he finally said after a moment.

"Hope," I repeated flatly, thinking that it was such an asinine reply. Jake just simply nodded, returning his gaze back to the object of his focus and elaborated.

"Hope that there is something to this whole Cullen logic. Hope that I haven't wasted all these years seeking something that doesn't exist. Hope that she is here among this group, waiting for me to touch her and know she's meant to be mine."

_Hope..._

Had I lost all of mine?

"That's a lot of hope," Mike replied with a humorless chuckle. "Too bad it's based on a load of bullshit."

Seth sighed at his comment, shaking his head exasperatedly. "I feel sorry for you, man. Both of you." He looked at me and Mike with a look of pity. "To be here and have to go through all this for nothing. I guess it's made you jaded."

"For nothing?" I asked him, surprised by his choice of words.

Seth nodded, "Well, yeah. I mean, there's no way you are going to be open to being mated with that big of a chip on your shoulder. I just think that if you honestly thought that you were wasting your time, why not leave?"

"And give up the opportunity to bang all that fine pussy?" Mike asked with a chuckle. "Masen's not that stupid. He's like me: he plays his shit smart."

"Shut the fuck up, Newton!" I snarled, sick of being his fucking BFF all of a sudden. Mike just stuffed his mouth with more popcorn, seemingly oblivious to my agitation. I turned on Seth just as annoyed. "And I don't see the two of you all head over heels. You met all the Betties just like I did last night, and I don't see either of you claiming you found the one. Isn't love supposed to happen at first sight or some shit?"

"You watch too many movies," Seth scoffed lightly.

"I don't know. There was a couple that I was pretty interested in," Jake said with a smirk. "They had potential. Especially this one. My god, she's gorgeous."

We all turned our attention toward Jake's line of vision, each of us silent for a minute or two as we took in the scene.

"Are they going to fuck now?" Mike asked suddenly, making me roll my eyes while simultaneously fighting the urge to junk punch him.

"They're just talking," Seth replied in an irritated tone, and I inwardly smiled at the thought that Mike was finally starting to grate on his nerves too.

"They are awfully close to each other to be just talking," Mike replied, and I could hear a hint of hope in his voice that made me want to laugh. He was such a dufus, but like any red blooded American male, he wanted to see two hot chicks get it on.

"She has to set the ground rules, moron," Seth replied. "You know that. Same thing with Angela this morning."

"Yeah, but -"

"Will you two shut the fuck up," Jake said heatedly. "I'm trying to listen to what they're saying."

"I'm serious, Bella," Rosalie told her from inside the room as we watched silently from the other side of the glass. "Your pleasure is important. It is what will make you feel calm and balanced, and the one thing in this life that will make all your frustrations just...fly away."

Mike laughed, "That's a load of shit. Like I give a flying fuck about _her_ pleasure."

"Shhh," we all hissed at the douche. Jacob even went as far as to kick the back of the fucker's seat, all while giving him a death glare.

"This is just about feeling, Bella," Rosalie told her as she inched closer to her on the bed, making the four of us sit forward slightly to get a better view. "I know it's your first time, both with a woman and being watched. You set the pace, show me how far you want to go."

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," Mike whisper yelled. "We get to see two hot chicks! It's been forever since I've seen a pussy licking-virgin."

"Shut the fuck up," I growled at him. "Or I'll kick your ass out of here..."

There were two decks running right now that Mike could observe from. We'd been in the other one earlier to watch as Kate formally introduced Angela to her partner Garrett and went over the rules. But once Kate and Garrett started to get hot and heavy, we moved on to the other one so that we could watch Bella's intro to the Cullen Mansion. Usually these meetings were pretty bland; not very exciting in the entertainment department. But now, watching Rosalie getting fresh with Bella, I'd have to say that my interest was definitely piqued.

"Do you want to touch me, Bella?" Rosalie asked in a tone that automatically had my pants tightening.

"Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes..." Mike chanted like an eager child, pulling my attention reluctantly away from the scene playing out before me.

"Shut the fuck up, Mike!"

"I'm going to kick your fucking ass!"

We all made similar threats, meaning every fucking one of them if that asshole opened his mouth on more goddamn time.

"Alright, alright," Mike placated, making some fucktard gesture about zipping his lips. I turned my attention back to the room on the other side of the glass, mesmerized by the scene playing before me.

I watched as Bella tentatively made her move toward Rosalie. She looked so hesitant at first that I thought she'd most likely chicken out. But again, she surprised me with her boldness. Instead of playing it safe and taking one step at a time, Bella dove right into the thick of it, taking one of Rosalie's pert tips into her mouth.

I knew by reading Bella's profile that she had an interest to be with a woman. When I read it, I honestly thought it was a casual fascination; like she was just going with the trend, as it seemed delving into lesbianism seemed to be the thing for the females of our generation. I thought for sure that she'd try a passionate kiss with a woman and that would be it.

On paper, Bella didn't seem the type to follow through with her idle fantasies. She was a quiet, docile type that seemed too shy to be adventurous in the bedroom. She was an introvert, at least her personality profile diagnosed her as such. So to see her so brash with Rosalie, taking the proverbial bull by the horns, doing exactly what her body craved, was a huge turn on for me.

Usually it would take weeks for a Betty to come out of her shell, but Isabella came here to play. And before long, she was spread beneath Rosalie, her silken brown hair spread all out onto the bed, writhing under her Dame's skilled tongue.

"Does this feel good, Betty?" Rosalie asked her from between her parted legs, her lips tickling Bella's plumped, swollen sex as she spoke. That statement was one I'd said countless times myself to whatever Betty I was with, but it always sounded different coming from a woman. More sensual, more endearing. And for some reason, it rubbed me the wrong way to hear Rosalie say it to Bella.

I could tell myself it was because I was a man, and by rights as a Consort, should have had primary dibs on the Betty I chose. It's not like I wouldn't have Isabella beneath me soon enough, but I wanted her first.

When I'd originally told her that I was to be her first that night in the bathroom as I made her cream on my fingers, I'd meant that I wanted to be the first person inside her. I was staking my claim, calling my ownership of her pussy like some pioneer of an undiscovered frontier. In fact, as soon as I'd left her in that bathroom, I'd jutted upstairs and sent in my invitation to Rosalie for one night with Bella.

But being the first person to put my dick inside her was no longer good enough, not with the noises she was making as Rosalie worked her over. Not as I watched the euphoria creep over her face as Rosalie brought her to completion. Not as Bella sat up, watching heatedly as Rosalie started her panting all over again.

"That was fucking awesome!" Mike exclaimed. "Why can't all introductions start off like _that_?"

The guys started a low conversation, each describing the high points of watching two women together. Part of me wanted to hear what they were saying because I wanted to see if any of them had plans to send Bella an invite after watching her with Rosalie. I didn't feel threatened, of course. I just wanted to be the only invitation Bella received so there was no chance of her turning me down for another Consort.

I kept watching Bella as the others talked, staring at her face intently. She was working up towards another climax quickly, and I wished for some reason that I could be closer to her so that I could see exactly how her pupils dilated when she reached that high. I watched intently as the corners of her mouth puckered, her eyes clamping closed, her head tilting back as Rosalie continued using her vagina as a licking plate.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Seth asked, looking through the one-way mirror with a horrified expression. I glanced at him quickly, then turned my gaze back to the room where Bella and Rosalie were.

That's when I saw him: Emmett standing behind Rosalie, rubbing up the back of her thighs as he inched up her tight skirt, exposing her bare ass. It was when he reached for his fly that we all simultaneously groaned.

"Ewwww."

"Oh god..."

"I'm blind."

"That's horrible."

And there it was, Emmett's hairy ass on display as he quickly sheathed himself into Rosalie, all while she continued her work on Bella.

"Why does he get to have all the fun?" Mike whined.

"You know Rosalie doesn't like to do anything without Emmett," Seth told him with a grimace on his face. His expression matched the rest of ours. We all wanted to watch — hell, who wouldn't? — but seeing Emmett in the buff was something that was slightly nauseating. Especially for me, since he was my brother and all.

So instead, I watched Bella. She fascinated me: her beauty, her delicate curves, the way her chest rose with every little breath she took. She was erotic and sensual, and I couldn't wait to be with her. Moving day could not come fast enough, that was a damn fucking fact.

I watched as Bella rose up from the bed slightly, positioning herself on her elbows so that she could watch what was happening in front of her, what was happening _to _her. Her gaze was mostly trained on watching Rosalie, but she'd occasionally peek up to see Emmett plowing into his mate's raised backside, admiring the way they both looked as she enjoyed the view.

I saw a couple times when Bella's gaze would meet Emmett's. She'd smile shyly through her pleasure, her plump lip caught between her teeth as she enjoyed the high of a threesome. I idly wondered if it could be considered a threesome, though. I knew my brother wouldn't touch Bella, not only because his woman wouldn't allow it, but he truly had no desire to be with anyone but Rosalie.

We'd had an in depth conversation about it once. I asked him how he could be okay seeing Rosalie with women in front of him and not being able to participate.

"She lets me have my fun," he'd told me.

"Yeah, but doesn't it bother you to see her intimate with another person?" I asked him bluntly.

"Naw," he answered on a chuckle. "Mine's the only dick she comes around. So she really is all mine."

I didn't argue with his logic on that one...

The door creaked open slightly, and I saw a figure at the end of the long hall inch his way into the Observation Deck and make his way towards us. I knew immediately who it was, and I felt my guard come up instantly.

"Is our new Betty making herself at home?" the newcomer asked as he approached our group, his tone mellow and warm as always.

"I'll say," Seth answered on a snort, his gaze still fixed straight ahead of him.

"Oh," Carlisle said as he took in the scene, his head tilting to the side slightly to catch the new angle our threesome decided to try. Bella had pulled herself off the bed to allow Rosalie to lie down on her back. Emmett continued to work his woman over, but Bella had joined in my running her tongue along Rosalie's clit, her ass high in the air and giving us a marvelous view of her backside.

I was actually surprised Rosalie allowed Bella to put her mouth so close to Emmett's dick sliding in and out of her, but I guessed she was so lost in the sensations that she didn't argue against it.

"Yeah, tell me how that's fair," Mike said through a petulant tone, gesturing toward Emmett with a nasty pout on his face. "Why does he get to play and we don't?"

"He's not a Consort," Carlisle replied simply, like his answer explained everything. Mike just rolled his eyes as Carlisle continued as if he didn't see Mike's blatant disrespect.

"I'm sure you all enjoyed yourselves last night," he said with a smile. "I was sorry that I wasn't able to attend. So since I didn't get a chance to meet your lovely Betties, I'm hosting a dinner on Friday night after the girls get settled in."

"Is Esme going to be here?" Seth asked, finally taking his eyes away from the room. Bella and the others had finally finished, and now Rosalie and her were lying on the bed under the covers, laughing and chatting like they were old friends as Emmett stretched out on the couch, spent.

Carlisle smiled, "Yes, she will. It's been a while since she's met a round of fresh pledges, so she's really excited about it."

"Good," Seth answered. "I have some questions for her about next week." Carlisle nodded, a sly smile tugging his lips.

Carlisle and his mate Esme lived on the other side of the hill where the Mansion resided. It was still part of the vast property, but more private and remote than our current location. They had the house to themselves, but had enough rooms to accommodate the Alumni members when they made a trip to the West coast for a party or such.

The ground belonged to the Cullen name, as well as the vast bank accounts that held the funds to keep the place running smoothly. Carlisle had been the owner and proprietor for over five years now, taking the responsibility when his cousin, Cauis, decided to step down from the job.

Carlisle and Esme had held this honor before. In fact, I'm told that during Carlisle's last reign as manager, he'd mated every Consort to come through these walls. He had somewhat of a reputation, so when I'd heard he was going to be our manager, I was glad.

But after spending countless counseling session with him discussing where my faults were and how to change them, his mentorship was starting to grate on my nerves.

He preached about the benefits of the program and how it was supposed to shape us into proper gentlemen. Really? I didn't see that logic at all. I mean, we fuck each other... We were all a bunch of fucking buddies, switch hitting and playing all the bases constantly. How the hell was that supposed to make us better men?

"Why do we allow them to call us Consorts?" Mike asked out of the blue, and I could tell that I missed some of the conversation while I was lost in my own internal struggles. "It makes it seem as if they are the ones choosing us, not the other way around."

"You have yet to learn that the female species is the one who controls the male," Carlisle said, taking a seat next to Mike as he put on his damned mentor hat once again. "If you find that _one_, Mike, you will understand just how important and true that statement is."

Mike scoffed, "No woman controls me," he said bluntly. "I don't know where you've been the last ten years or so, but this program is not all candy and roses, Carlisle. These women are passionate and raw, and just want to be fucked like we do. There's no point to it other than that. And if that little display in there didn't show you that, then I don't know what will."

Mike got up to leave after his statement, his expression frustrated at having to point out what was becoming painfully obvious to me as well. Carlisle ignored the fact that Mike was walking away, deciding to finish his lecture as if Mike hadn't spoken.

"I did not teach you to be a Neanderthal, only taking what you need and leaving your mate wanton. You are a better male than that, but it has to start inside your mind before it can happen in the bedroom. Otherwise, I'm afraid you will always be subconsciously seeking a way to fulfill that deep seeded instinct to please your woman, but simultaneously fighting it due to your stubborness and male ego. Good luck with that," Carlisle finished as Mike closed the door to the Deck behind him.

"Don't mind him, Carlisle," Seth said as he got up to follow Mike out. "I think he's having a little bit of a moment."

Carlisle chuckled, "I'm used to Consorts having their doubts." I didn't miss the way his gaze flashed to mine as he said that. "Mike will learn, or he'll leave empty. Either way, I did my part."

Jacob and Seth left the Deck, both saying something about heading into town to pick up a burger or something. I decided to hang back for a minute, observing Bella in such a relaxed environment as she continued to talk with Rosalie openly, laughing and smiling in such a carefree manner.

"He's right, you know," I told Carlisle, not taking my eyes off of Bella. When Carlisle remained silent, I elaborated. "This is all about sex for all of us, and especially for these Betties. And the mates?... Well, you saw what the benefits were for Emmett clear as day. Mike had a point...and you know how much it kills me to admit that."

Carlisle chuckled silently. He was contemplative for a couple moments, and his silence made me think that he didn't have anything to add about the matter. I should have known better, though. He was just organizing his thoughts constructively.

"I think both you and Mike missed the big part of that picture, Edward," he told me calmly. I raised my eyebrow in question, almost daring him to find some other reason that pointed to that scene not being about only free sex.

"Who were you watching in that room?" he asked me, surprising me by the question.

"I watched the whole thing," I replied.

"No, I don't think you did. I think you were only watching your Betty. Because if you watched the whole thing, really took a step back and saw it for what it was, you would have seen that the entire scene was for Rosalie."

"What?" I looked at him, confused.

"Her mate knows what she likes and puts her needs before his own," Carlisle stated. "She likes the sensual touch of a woman, but she craves her man. He gives her that, but also respects her boundries by not touching the other woman."

I though about that for a minute, my gaze returning to the room as I replayed the events of the scene over in my mind, trying to see it from Carlisle's point of view. It was true that I was mostly fixiated on Bella during the whole thing, mainly because I wanted to see how she reacted to it all. Taking a step back, part of me could see Carlisle interpretation. Another part of me, a bigger part, thought that he was grasping for straws.

I didn't realize Carlisle was watching me until he spoke, "Have you spent some time with her?" he asked.

I gave him a questioning look, even though I knew damn well he was talking about Bella, since he'd been watching me stare at her for the last several moments or so.

"Yeah," I answer, not divulging any other details than that because I didn't want to hear another lecture. Carlisle had a weird way of figuring out my shit, and if I even hinted toward breaking the rules with Bella last night, I'd get an ear full.

As if he could cut through all my shit anyway, Carlisle decided to be omniscient by forecasting my future. Or past, as it were. "Please remember to follow the rules this time, Edward," he told me as he stood from his chair, turning toward the exit.

"But it makes it more interesting to cheat," I replied with a smile, only half kidding. I usually liked to toy with him, just because it seemed to bother him so much. And Carlisle rarely lost his cool.

"Those rules are placed not only for your protection, but for those women as well," Carlisle reprimanded in what I'd come to know as his stern voice. "And you should keep in mind that not all these women come from such substantial money like our family, Edward. You could be a little more careful for our sake as well as your own."

"But then you'd just blackmail them, Uncle. Isn't that why you keep all the tapes of the things we do here behind closed doors?" Carlisle looked at me with a quirked eyebrow, his severely disappointed face making a rare appearance for me. "Or are you just keeping all that footage for spank bank material? The ol' wifey-poo not pulling her weight in the bedroom any longer? I've heard we have an extra spot on the Consort list. Perhaps re-enrollment would be just the ticket."

I knew I was skating on thin ice with him, but my mind and my mouth didn't seem to run congruently lately, especially after my Uncle departed some of his all-knowing wisdom on me unsolicited.

"I can see it, Edward," he said in a convoluted tone. "You can't hide that shit from me."

I looked at him with a shocked expression, a little taken aback. Rarely had I heard Carlisle swear, and when I raised an eyebrow in question, he simply looked back toward Bella sitting idly on the bed, then back at me as if to answer my silent statement.

"Be the badass," he told me bluntly. "Be the victim, the martyr, the stud... I know that's what you think of yourself. And in the mean time, you'll miss it all."

"Miss what?" I asked him in a snarky tone, but part of me — the part of me that clung to the hope that Jacob still had — wanted to know what he meant by that.

"The reason for it all," he replied cryptically, his smooth, warm tone reappearing. He gave me a small smile, and turned toward the room for one more glance of Bella sitting so comfortably in the playroom. He glanced back at me, and there was something in his eyes as he studied my face that was a kin to optimism.

I didn't try to challenge Carlisle's words, or to even question them. I kind of liked that they hung in the air around me, churing with the musky air and adding to the cacophany of thoughts swirling in my head. I had so much negativity, and I seemed to put on a defensive mask around the other guys, stating that I didn't believe nor want the Cullen program to work for me. It was only Carlisle that seemed to be able to see through that wall, and say the perfect words to me that added just the right about of hope into my rationale that my presence here was right for me.

Maybe there was a higher purpose to all of this lying deep beneath all the depravity. Perhaps I was still seeing things in one way because I hadn't met her yet. But as I watched Bella dress slowly and leave the room, I felt a strange pull in my chest that awoke something deep inside of me. And with Carlisle's words in my mind, I decided that Moving Day couldn't be here quick enough.

* * *

**I know that you will all have a shitton of questions after this little peek into the Consort side of things, so I'm doing a Q&A over at the blog. Send me your questions with your review and I'll post the answers over there. **

**I am shocked to say that I've been nominated for some awards over at the Walk of Fame Awards and The Hidden Star Awards. Thanks to whoever those little gems were that nom'ed me. Yeah...jaw dropping shock over here. **

**The Deck has been updated, so go check that out. And I want to see how you guys picture the characters. So if any of you have a pic of how Alice, Jessica, or any of the other Cullens look, send them to me over at Twitter: emilybowdn**

**Recs**

**Welcome to Paradise by suzie55**

**Hate Me by xrxdanixrx**


	13. Chapter 12 The Movers

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to CandyCanesfly, Neliz, & MsMayfly for their eyes and thoughts. Couldn't ask for a better group of friends to work with on this. **

* * *

Chapter 12 The Movers

~ Bella, Betty Pledge ~

If I was asked to sum up my first day at the Mansion into one word, I'd probably find that a hard feat to accomplish. Even given the option of two words it would still be hard, but my choice would probably include some sort of raunchy expletive.

Expressions like 'fucking unbelievable' or 'holy fuck' didn't seem to quite cover it. Maybe some creative description laced with enough blasphemy to make a priest seek his own confession just might've been the only thing to give that experience its due diligence...

Going into it —during the whole five second prep time I had — I didn't know what to expect the first time I was intimate with both a man and a woman simultaneously. Well, I guessed I was pretty much only with Rosalie, since Emmett all but ignored me the entire time, except for the few sly glances he'd given me as he slid in and out of his woman.

Being with Rosalie in that way was intimidating and thrilling all at the same time. During the whole experience she never made me feel threatened or uncomfortable. She would pause her actions for just a moment in order to gauge my response, making sure that I liked what she was doing and assessing my cues to see if I was okay with going further.

That was another difference that I noted being with a woman versus a man. Rosalie was more attentive. She made sure to put her pleasure on the back burner, focusing on my experience like it was her responsibility to ensure that my time with her was positive and fulfilling before she'd seek out her own satisfaction.

None of the men I'd been with — despite the short list — had ever been that generous. They were always so wrapped up in themselves, concentrating on that golden race, blazing down the fast track until they crossed the finish line. It was always a wham, bam, thank you ma'am kind of a deal. They'd already be sated before I could even get worked up enough to find enjoyment.

And that was when the all-consuming tension and irritability would kick in. And the funny thing was I didn't understand where it was coming from.

I knew the mechanics of sex: you stick one part into another part and make them move. How could I possibly screw it up so bad that I was left desperately wanton? I honestly thought there was something chemically wrong with me, that maybe my body wasn't built to orgasm like other women. That thought left me seriously depressed, and looking back, I could see a lot of resentment in my attitude toward other chicks.

Seriously, I was surprised I had any friends left that would speak to me due to the fact that I would become this crazy, raging bitch for weeks after a night of unfulfilled sex.

I honestly didn't realize I was being that way until Alice called me out on it. She'd asked me what was wrong, but my answer would always be the same: I didn't know...

It wasn't like I intentionally lied to her. I didn't know what sexual fulfillment _was_, let alone the source of that nagging ache I couldn't place.

I finally figured out that I was just sexually frustrated when Alice introduced me to the concept of the glorious vibrator. I swore, discovering that little gem and what I could do with it was like witnessing the second coming, except in a dirty, totally hedonistic way. Before then, I had resolved myself to the fact that I would probably grow up to be some bitter harpy who hated life. And having that designation at the ripe ol' age of twenty five was remarkably pathetic. I was buried in some sort of depressive state, going through the motions of life with a fat chip on my shoulder. Who knew that lack of sexual satisfaction tied directly into one's mood?

When I figured out the link, it was like a reprieve for me; perhaps I wasn't destined to be some crazy broad with six cats and a sour attitude. I'd realized my cure.

Well, it was Alice who pointed it out to me, but it was the results that counted. Still, my best friend was determined that I needed more, telling me that I had to get laid good and proper to squelch that ache for more than a day or so, hence my application to the Cullens.

Now that I was here, I was really hoping to find a man who could take me to the place my body craved. Yes, I could give myself orgasms until my clit went necrotic, but I'd heard that nothing topped coming with a nice hard cock inside.

But my experience with selfish men didn't leave me optimistic. In fact, as I felt Rosalie's tongue doing wicked things to my body, I kind of wondered whether I should even risk the disappointment of sex with a man. Rosalie was attentive and respectful, not self-indulgent in the slightest. If anything could make me swear off men, it would've been this experience.

Still, I wanted to feel what she felt as Emmett pumped into her. The euphoria she experienced was evident on her expression, even with the obscurity of my pussy in her face. So when she'd finished bringing me to climax again, I pulled my body from beneath her, just watching enviously as Emmett quickly flipped her over and plunged into her heat once again.

For one small second, I wished that Rosalie wasn't so stingy with her man. I could tell that Emmett knew what the fuck he was doing. His movements were not rushed or frenzied. In fact, it seemed that he thought about each time he pushed into her because every thrust was from a different angle. He'd study her face for her reaction, looking to see which position rendered the most pleasure from her. It was then that I recognized his reasoning for placing her on her back: so he could see her expression and watch her pleasure creep onto her face.

That was the kind of man I wanted, I thought. That was the experience I wanted my man to give me every night.

But it was when I caught a simple glance between the two of them that I understood why their intimacy was for them alone. He looked at her with adoration and love; she looked at him with awe and admiration that befitted a king. No, _that_ was the reason he'd placed her on her back, I mused: so he could see her love and devotion.

Suddenly, I felt like a huge, inconvenient third wheel. My need and desire seemed to have shriveled into a solid rock of discomfort sitting deep in my chest.

As if she sensed my disquiet, Rosalie turned to me with a lustful smile. "Come here, Bella," she told me on a moan. I inched myself closer to the pair, my eyes automatically traveling to the place where they were connected.

I felt Rosalie's fingers as they curved around my own. Slowly, she brought my hand closer to her body, angling my touch toward her lower abdomen. Once my finger tips touched the skin directly above her womb, I gasped. I could feel Emmett as he pushed himself into her.

Rosalie smiled at my reaction, biting her bottom lip as I glanced at her face questioningly. Following her encouraging expression, I slowly bent my head closer to the skin my fingers caressed. As my lips made contact, both Emmett and Rosalie moaned. It was then that I realized if I could feel him as he moved inside her, then Emmett could probably feel me touching from the outside as well. That heady epiphany fueled something deep inside me. Suddenly, my motivations for being inside that room disappeared. My immediate focus became the two people in front of me, and everything I could do to make them happy and content.

I watched, entranced, as he moved above her, Rosalie's body contorting and writhing to meet his with every push. Placing my palm on her lower pelvis, I could feel the slight rise and fall of her abdomen every time he plunged inside of her. It was erotic and dirty and incredibly intimate. Knowing that I was a part of it, that I got to watch, even participate in some way as they made love right in front of me, made me become heated and achy once again.

I smiled lasciviously, my gaze traveling from her sex, up toward her chest. I stared at the beauty of her breasts that moved in time with his every thrust. They were rounded and glorious, perfectly tipped with little pink buds I just had to place my mouth on. So I did.

My tongue snaked out of my mouth, tasting her skin before I wrapped my lips around her nipple. I teased her tip while my lips formed a slight suction, taking her silken skin deeper into my warm mouth. When I released her, I let my teeth slightly graze her pebbled flesh. She moaned as I began to pepper kisses all along the darkened skin, leaving a trail of heat toward the other breast.

As I did, I could feel Rosalie's hand move up my inner thigh, her fingers massaging the skin there. As she got closer to my dripping sex, my actions became more frenzied. In my mind, the more pleasure I delivered her, the more she was willing to give me. And I wanted her to finish that journey toward my heat. I wanted to feel her fingers on me as she was pleasured by both Emmett and myself simultaneously. I wanted to make this beautiful woman below me feel sated in every way.

I glanced up quickly to look at Rosalie's expression, knowing that she was getting close. She was watching me with hooded eyes. I could feel my gaze match her own, and I couldn't stop my eyes from traveling down her body, enjoying every line and shadow her curves created, the way her body moved in time with Emmett, all the way toward her long, toned legs cradling the hips of her man.

My attention became fixated on Rosalie's dripping sex. I watched closely as Emmett slid into her with attention and purpose. In that moment, I wanted more. More exploring, more discoveries, more passion, and...just...more. And I knew exactly how to get it...

I'd never touched another pussy but my own, let alone tasted one before. I didn't know how to pleasure a woman that way except for taking tips from Rosalie's earlier exploration of my own hidden fruit. But as I watched Rosalie writhing on the bed, I couldn't help but fantasize that I was her. And if it was me in that situation - with my lover between my legs and a woman at my chest, willing to enhance my euphoria – I'd want to feel her mouth on me as he plunged inside my heat.

"Can..." I began hesitantly, swallowing loudly before I could finish my thought. "Can I touch you...there?" I asked, my eyes flashing toward Rosalie's swollen nub.

I watch anxiously as she exchanges a glance with Emmett, some silent conversation. Now, if I were a man and some chick offered to go down on my girl while I was inside her, I'd be all for it. In fact, I'd be pretty damn giddy about it. But there was no excitement in Emmett's eyes when he looked at her. No desperation or pleading that she'd allow me to be that close to his penis. There was only focus on Rosalie as he tried to read her willingness to explore. To me, that fact spoke volumes about Emmett and his desire to please his woman.

"Yes," Rosalie breathed on a whipser, pulling my attention away from Emmett's expression and back to her willing gaze. I saw no hesitancy, no reluctance, and I willed that my expression didn't reveal my nervousness at her acquiescence because I didn't want her to misread my desire. Yes I was anxious, but I was also highly aroused.

So as I leaned my body over hers, bringing my mouth closer to her warmth, Emmett stilled himself inside her. Whether it was to stop himself from moving closuer to where my mouth was traveling, or so that Rosalie could experience the feeling of my lips on her without his added involvement, I couldn't tell. I would prefer to think it was the latter, for I didn't want to make either of them feel uncomfortable.

Emmett didn't move when my lips where on her body, he simply watched with the tip of his erection resting inside the precipice of her sheath like a little love nook. With the distraction of Emmett's movements out of the way for now, I focused my attention on what I was doing.

She tasted different down there than she did anywhere else on her skin, but there was still a subtle hint that reminded me of the way her breasts felt in my mouth. She was sweet and tangy, not at all bitter or repulsive, as was my earlier apprehension. She felt smooth and silken under my tongue, and I recalled the little things Rosalie had done to me earlier with her own mouth that had me panting for more.

Emmett stayed completely motionless, leaving me wondering if he was going to stop what he was doing as long as I was down here. My question was answered as I placed my lips on her swollen nub once more, wrapping them around her skin. As if it were synchronized with my movements, Emmett sheathed himself deep into her just as my tongue encircled her little button.

Rosalie groaned a heady sound from her chest at the sensation, her toes curling on the bed sheets below her. I wondered briefly how often the linens were laundered at the Mansion, but quickly became distracted by what was happening below me. I could see her legs begin to tremble, her clit becoming more engorged as her climax approached.

As I pleasured her down below, playing with her nipples equally with my right hand, I felt Rosalie's fingers snake up my inner thigh once more to begin a torturous massage of my own pleasure zone.

Again, a selfless lover.

In the midst of what had to be, based on the amount of moaning and writhing she was doing, the most pleasurable experience one could have with a man and a woman, Rosalie took my pleasure into consideration. She touched me in the exact place, in the exact manner, in which her tongue had done before; telling me that she had paid attention to my reactions the last time, knowing what I enjoyed and how I liked to be touched. She did her homework, as it were, and I could only imagine how better skilled she'd be if we had countless more sessions to explore and learn.

When we were done, when Rosalie and Emmett had both been completely sated, Rosalie and I collapsed on the bed. At first, as I watched Emmett redress himself while asking what his mate wanted for dinner, I thought that maybe I'd feel a little embarrassed about what we'd just done. After all, it wasn't everyday that I had sex with two practically complete strangers, both of whom were madly in love with each other. But Rosalie and Emmett's attitudes quickly made me feel relaxed and comforted.

"Hey Bella, when you move in, we are going to have so much fun," Emmett said excitedly, just like a little boy on Christmas. He looked a little cute in that moment, but since he was talking about sex all while resembling a giddy school boy, I grimaced slightly. "Monday nights is movie night. We all pull on comfy Pjs and head down to the theater room to watch on the big screen. On Tuesday, us guys head out for poker night while you girls do... what is it you chicks do on Tuesdays, babe?" he asked Rosalie as he pulled up the fly on his jeans.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Rosalie replied with a snarky little attitude. She was sitting against the headboard of the bed, pulling up the sheet to cover the majority of her nudity. She looked comfy so I climbed up beside her as the two of them continued their banter.

"Oh, is it a secret?" Emmett asked playfully. "Do you guys have like a massive orgy or something? How come we don't get to watch?"

"Shut up," Rosalie laughed, throwing a pillow at Emmett that he completely dodged. "We do not have orgies. It's a girl thing, you wouldn't understand," she sighed the cliché, pretending to examine her nails with a feigned nonchalance.

"Sure," Emmett snorted, then grabbed a magazine and planted his butt right back on the same cushion he'd vacated earlier to join us on the bed.

"What _do_ you guys do on Tuesday nights?" I asked under my breath, now that Emmett was out of ear shot.

Rosalie laughed, "Different things, mostly either to the spa or to the clubs. It depends on if we are due for a waxing or nail appointment. We usually all keep the same schedule for those sorts of things. The program rents out the entire salon for us every other week so we can get freshened up. And it serves as a girl bonding time, so it's a win-win."

"Nice," I said, glancing down to my sheet-covered knees sheepishly. I couldn't help but think of how expensive visiting the spa was going to be if we were doing it every other week. I could hardly afford to visit as often as I did already, and I hated to say it was only every other month or so. But I knew that if I tried to get out of the spa time with the girls, they'd know something was up. I didn't want to be singled out as the poor person among the group; that was the whole reason I went for the sponsorship idea because it was supposed to remain confidential.

"Don't worry, Bella," Rosalie chuckled slightly, probably assessing my slightly panicked expression. "Everything you do at the Mansion will be covered by your tuition. When you arrive here on Friday for Moving Day, you'll receive your care package."

"What's that?" I asked, intrigued and extremely relieved that Rosalie seemed to know me so well already. I was suddenly really glad that she was elected as my Dame.

"It's more of a welcoming present; things that the owner has discovered help heighten the experience for the Betties. It also has a platinum black credit card, with a limitless amount, so don't worry about that."

"Oh," I said, stunned. "I could never... I-I didn't expect... Wow."

"Yeah," Rosalie laughed. "And don't feel bad if you over spend on something. The tuition is a flat rate. Believe me, the Cullens have enough money to splurge on their pledges."

"I couldn't imagine anything I'd spend a large amount of money on," I told her honestly.

"Well, we will see if you say that when the Annual Ball comes up," she replied with a roll of her eyes. She turned her head quickly back to me with a disbelieving expression. "Isn't Alice one of your best friends? I'm sure _she _could find some designer ball gown for you that could put a small dent in the Cullen fortune."

"Oh God," I said on a chuckle, bringing my hand up to shield my expression slightly. "I forgot about the little she-devil. That woman is a shopaholic."

"Yes, but her taste is divine. Besides, we all like to be spoiled a little bit, do we not?" She asked the last with a little wickedness to her expression, making my mind automatically flash back to Rosalie spread beneath both Emmett and I, being completely lavished by the pair of us.

"I guess we do," I smirked back at her. She giggled, and I joined her after a moment or two.

"So what else do we do at the Mansion?" I asked. "Are the other days open for play?"

"The weekends are usually reserved for play time, Bella. Didn't I go over this earlier today?" she asked, her eyebrows raised. I shrugged, because even if she did, I honestly didn't think I could have remembered it after everything that happened since we'd entered the playroom.

Rosalie laughed, "I guess it's worth repeating. Like Emmett said, Mondays and Tuesdays are usually reserved for some sort of bonding time. I know it sounds silly, but we really do become like a family here. Thursday is the day we go out as a group; the rest are open."

"Why is play reserved for only weekends?" I asked as I brought my knees up to my chin, resting my head atop of the covers draped across my lower half.

Rosalie nudged my shoulder with hers as she answered, "Not all of us work from home, Bella. Some of us still have careers to think about."

"Oh," I giggled, finding my own stupidity as humorous as Rosalie seemed to. "I guess I didn't think about it that way."

I spent the rest of the day at home, trying to organize my rampant thoughts. I'd experienced and done so much over that last couple of hours that the logical part of my brain was taking a while to make sense of it all. I knew it would probably be a little bit of an adjustment once things got going at the Mansion, but I, in no way, thought I'd have sex with a woman the first day there. And technically, that wasn't even my first day; it was like an orientation day or something. Kind of like what I got when I went to college as a freshmen, but with a really huge, convoluted twist at the end. I never had sex with my college counselor.

In any case, I was thankful that I had the week to prepare myself for moving into the Mansion. Not only so that I could finalize the moving details, but also so I could reevaluate that day I spent with Rosalie and Emmett.

There were some things I learned about myself during that experience that really surprised me. First of all, I was a lot more assertive in the bedroom than I thought I would be. Perhaps it was the environment that made me feel so willing to explore, but when I'd originally put down what my sexual fantasies were in the Cullen application, I didn't think that I'd actually have the balls to go through with them. Now, having already participated in the one item that I thought I'd be the most hesitant about, I found myself mentally going through my list and analyzing how excited I seemed about each one.

The second thing I found out about myself was how horny I actually was. Maybe it was my age, that I was just hitting my prime and wanted to take advantage of it, but I also thought that my sexual repression over the last several years probably played more of a part. After all, I'd only been having sex for a couple years. Yes, I was a late bloomer in comparison to my girlfriends, but I still had a hunger for it that I didn't think I'd ever have, especially based on my previous experiences.

And the last thing I learned about myself was how damn excited I was to move in with my fellow Betties. I was thrilled before, but having gone through my initial walk-through, I was really giddy about the fact that I was going to live in a kick-ass Mansion for the better part of a year. Maybe even longer, who knew. I didn't know what the deal with the whole mating thing was, but perhaps if it happened to me, I'd be asked to stay on with the program like Rosalie and Emmett.

I was all grins about that thought, although out of all the Consorts, I didn't know which one I'd mesh with the most. My personality was different than anyone I'd met thus far, save Angela. She seemed closer to how I was – an introverted pervert, it seemed – than anyone else I'd met so far.

And the guys were all so...yummy that I didn't know if I could actually pick a favorite one out of the bunch. Okay, that was a lie. Both Jacob and Edward had made me tingle extra special in the girlie region. Especially Edward.

In truth, I'd spent the night after the party jilling off to thoughts of Edward. I'd occasionally think of the other hot guys I'd met, but my mind would always return back to him. He was incredibly sexy; drool-worthy on several different fronts, but there was something about him that caused me pause. I couldn't put my finger on it, though, and as a result, I found myself more curious about him in particular compared to the other men.

Friday morning couldn't have come fast enough. I was packed and ready to go. A moving van had arrived at eight o'clock that morning to load up the heavier things I wanted to take. It wasn't much, since the rooms were fully furnished as they were, and I had planned on keeping my apartment like Rosalie had recommended. So I was only loading the major valuables I didn't want stolen in my absence into the truck: my hope chest filled to the brim, a flat screen TV, my laptop, and three heavy boxes loaded with my books.

I had dug into my savings as well, purchasing a gently used Lexus convertible in replacement of my old Honda Civic. Call me a sell out, but I cringed every time I thought of pulling up to the Mansion in my beat up jalopy when everyone else was driving something that cost more than my life was worth. I debated all through Monday and Tuesday, finally making the decision to spend my money on Wednesday. I even called Alice to get her take on the idea. Part of me felt guilty knowing that she'd shelled out a huge amount of money for my tuition into the program, and there I was, thinking of spending a good chunk of cash on a new car I really didn't need. But Alice seemed more excited about my idea than I was. She'd even offered to go shopping with me later that evening to find one that fit me perfectly. She squelched any bad feelings I had toward it, reminding me of my plans to pay her back the money eventually anyway. At the end of the night, I'd pulled away from the Lexus dealership with a 2008 SC 430, in silver. I was happy with my purchase.

Taking one more look around the apartment, I closed the front door and locked it. Turning toward my new piece of glorious machinery, I sat down on the plush leather seating and turned the key. The engine hummed softly, nothing like the sputtering the Honda sang to me every morning. Putting the car into reverse, I made the forty minute drive up toward the Orange County hills where the Cullen Mansion hid nestled in the green trees.

Pushing down my anxiety and expectations, I enjoyed the drive over, taking a confident look back on my decisions and rationale that led me to this moment. I was excited and thrilled, not willing to hold anything back. This was going to be an experience of a life time, and I was really looking forward to getting started.

I pulled into the side of the Mansion where a large warehouse was. It had several garage doors along the outside of it, looking like it could store maybe twenty vehicles or so. I parked along the outside perimeter, per Rosalie's instructions. She'd told me last week that a garage door opener and assigned parking spot would be part of the care package I'd receive today, and for me to just park along the curb for now.

Getting out, I noticed a rebuilt classic Porsche pull up next to me. Wondering who it belonged to, I admired the curves and lines of the beautiful vehicle. Rosalie stepped out of it a moment later, a huge smile on her luscious lips.

"Hey, Bella," Rosalie beamed. "You look nice this morning."

I hadn't really dressed for the occasion, it seemed. Thinking I'd be spending the day working hard, getting my stuff moved in, I'd worn an old black tank and Chucks. I didn't look anything close the bombshell Rosalie was. I instinctively ran my palms down the front of my jean skirt, both to rid myself of invisible wrinkles and to wipe the sweat off my palms. I wasn't sure if I was perspiring because of the heat, my nerves, or the fact that Rosalie looked absolutely delicious in her summer dress. In any case, I stepped forward after a second to give her a warm hug in greeting.

"Hi Rosalie. You look amazing."

"Thanks, Bells," she laughed, then looked at me inquiringly as she gestured toward her car. "Think you can give me a hand?"

"Sure," I replied. "I'll just come back and get my bags."

"Oh don't worry about that," Rosalie responded as she walked toward the passenger seat of her car. "The guys can come back and get your stuff."

I shrugged, "Okay," following in her wake. She bent over slightly to pick up two large platters from the front seat, giving me a nice view of her ass. I could see a small glimpse of bright pink lacy cheekies, and I groaned at the site, probably a lot louder than I intended to. But really, how was I supposed to respond?

"Did you say something?" Rosalie asked as she straightened, handing me a couple of the platters.

"Umm," I stuttered, trying to think of something to cover my obvious slip-up. "I was just thinking how nice your car is."

"Thanks," Rosalie replied with a smirk, not buying my diversion for one second. I quickly wondered if she was being incredibly sexy on purpose for some reason, like maybe she wanted to get me all hot and bothered over her.

"I have a shop in Beverly Hills," she said, looking over her car with a sense of pride.

"You rebuild cars?" I asked, looking at her in disbelief. I'd never picture Rosalie as a grease monkey, let alone that someone as filthy rich as her would be willing to get that dirty.

"MmmHmm," she replied. "Started off as a hobby, but I got really good at it. There's nothing better than a nice piece of machinery in my hands." I laughed at that.

"Come on," Rosalie replied, closing her car door with her hip. "Everyone is around the back." I followed Rosalie toward the Mansion, each of us loaded with several platters of incredibly smelling food.

As we approached, I saw that several moving vans were parked toward the side of the Mansion, the cargo holds opened as if they were being unloaded, although I didn't see any of the movers in site. Off to the side, all the girls were sitting at a large table and several chairs under huge umbrellas. Each of them were wearing various amounts of barely there clothing due to the heat of the day. Alice even had on a bikini and was lying out on a lounge chair with a pair of overly large sunglasses perched on her face.

I was about to ask Rosalie what the hell they were doing, but just then, the back door opened, and my jaw literally hit the floor.

The men of the Cullen Mansion came striding out into the yard, shirtless and sweaty from a day of unloading the trucks in the hot sun. My mouth watered.

"Ho-ly shhhit," I slurred, my eyes wide open as I took in the bare chested magnificence before me. "Fuck me..."

I could tell Rosalie was looking at me, chuckling at my reaction. "I know, right," she replied, then let out a little sigh. "Moving day is always my favorite day of the year."

"Better than Christmas," I said absentmindedly as I watched Edward and Emmett unloading one of the trucks, both working in conjunction to lift my heavy hope chest from the back end of it.

"Oh yeah," Rosalie agreed. We watched silently as both juicy men bent down to set the chest on the ground so that they could grasp the edges of it differently. Simultaneously, Rosalie and I bent our heads slightly in order to gain a better angle.

Emmett glanced in our direction, a wide smile on his face, and said something to Edward I couldn't make out. Both of them turned toward us and headed over, and I couldn't take my eyes off Edward as he moved.

His chest was etched and defined by tight muscles. His golden, sun-kissed skin was shining from the slight sheen of perspiration. His hair was a mess, but in the sunlight, I could see more of the red highlights than I noticed the night of the party. It was a unique shade, and I felt myself wondering if it was natural or not.

But the biggest thing I noticed was the way I began to sweat as he came toward me. My breathing was shallow, my heart rate pounding out a hurried cadence. It was a sympathetic response to one steamy and sensual stimulus, with bed head atop a smoking' body.

In the time it took for him to arrive where we were standing, my mind had flitted through several scenarios, all with me panting and writhing while being pleasured by that man. I could almost feel his skin on mine, his magic fingers taking me to a place I could only read about in one of my erotica books, just like he had done the night of the party.

_Hmmm...the party_. I quickly wondered if there was any way to get some alone time with him at some point during the day. Maybe do a little rule breaking before dinner that evening.

"Hey baby," Emmett told Rosalie, kissing her on the cheek and taking the platters from her hands. "I was wondering when the food was coming, I'm starved."

"Em, can you go with Bella to grab her bags from her car? I'll take the food over to the girls."

"I'll go with her," Edward offered, catching me by surprise. It was then that I noticed I was still staring at him, and I quickly averted my gaze to Rosalie. She was watching me with a knowing expression, her little lips turned up in a smirk.

"Thanks, Edward," she told him politely, then reached for the platters I was carrying to free my hands. Before I knew what was happening, Rosalie and Emmett were walking toward the group, leaving me alone with Edward.

"Where'd you park?" he asked, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair.

"Um, over here," I answered, surprised my voice didn't crack from my suddenly dry throat. He followed me silently over toward my car, the tension surrounding us increasing with every step.

I was almost glad for the quiet, though; it gave me a chance to gather my bearings. It seemed that he was being silent for a reason, perhaps not wanting to bring too much attention on the fact that we'd shared a moment together that night. Of course, my over analytical brain started worrying if he perhaps regretted being with me that night. Maybe he didn't want to put me above the other girls there so early in the program. Or maybe he'd even done..._that_...with the other girls that night as well. I didn't think that was likely, but I guessed it could happen. We were there for sexual exploration...

Edward's continued silence started to grate my nerves, though. It wasn't like we hadn't spoken before. This was the _last_ thing I wanted to happen with any of the people I'd become involved with at the Mansion. I mean, yes we had fooled around the night of the party, but wasn't that to be expected? There was no need to feel like I owed him any kind of explanation for my behavior, and vice versa. I was actually kind of surprised that Edward was acting odd toward me. I didn't peg him as the silent type.

"This is me," I said softly as we approached the Lexus.

"Nice car," Edward replied, looking over my convertible like it was a nude woman spread before him. He even licked his damn lips.

"Uh, thanks," I responded, my eyebrow quirked in interest. Edward glanced at me and took in my expression.

"Sorry, it's just I have a thing about cars."

"You and Rosalie both, it seems."

He chuckled, "Yeah, it's one of the few things we have in common."

I pulled my keys from my back pocket and opened up my trunk. I had two large suit cases and a duffle packed with clothes. Everything else was in the moving van. I reached in to grab one of the bags, but Edward beat me to it.

"I can grab something," I said as I watched Edward swing the duffle over his shoulder, then pulled both bags from the trunk simultaneously.

"I got it," he told me, turning his back on me and heading back toward the direction of the others. He didn't meet my gaze nor really acknowledge me standing there at all except for his simple words of dismissal. It was then I realized that he hadn't even really looked at me at all since I arrived. I stood there for a minute, watching him as he walked away, dumbfounded.

"Hey," I said abruptly, my voice loud and echoing across the silent driveway. Edward stopped and turned toward me with an apathetic attitude. "What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked with a blank expression.

I gestured toward him as if it was obvious. "Well, I seem to remember the last time we were alone together you had your hands half way up my cooch," I replied, crossing my arms across my chest in defiance. "What gives with the attitude? Are you even going to say hi to me?"

"Hi," he snarked blandly, not giving me a hint of warmth or welcome. I rolled my eyes, then pushed past him toward the house. I found Rosalie laughing with the girls and quickly joined her. She took in my expression but didn't comment on it, which I was incredibly thankful for. My little tactless friend, however, was not that kind.

"What's wrong Bella?" Alice asked from her lounge chair, pulling up her sunglasses to better look at me. Some of the girls turned toward me at her words.

"Nothing," I replied, trying to shrug off the odd sense of loss I felt from Edward's cold shoulder. "Just anxious, that's all." I popped a piece of food into my mouth from the table to cover my blatant lie, hoping that no one would question me further about my apparent discomfort. I was glad when Rosalie handed me a margarita filled glass, and I gulped it hurriedly.

I felt a heavy arm drape around my shoulder, and I turned to see Jacob standing next to me, a warm smile on his face. "She's just glad to be here, right Bella?" he asked me jokingly.

I laughed, "Sure am."

He pulled away from me and turned toward the table, taking an empty glass and pouring himself a hefty drink. I took a moment to observe him from the back. I got to see a peek of his sculpted form the night of his party due to the way his long trench coat barely covered his bare chest. But now that he was fully nude from the waist up, I couldn't help but let out a little girlie sigh.

He turned and caught me staring at him, smiling and giving me a little wink of approval. I blushed, turning away to see Emmett heading in our direction.

"Move over, I'm hungry," he ordered, shooing the girls away from the table. It was then I noticed that the guys were joining us near the food, each of them grabbing for plates and drinks for their much deserved lunch break. Except for Edward; he was the only one missing. I thought perhaps he was dropping off my bags by my room, and I growled internally at that thought.

Not because he wasn't present, giving me a chance to get to the bottom of his sour attitude, but because he was probably in my bedroom, looking around the area like some perverted stalker. Initially, that thought would have made me smile, but now, seeing as he was being a stuck up asshole, I didn't want him near the place. It would be forever known to me as my sanctuary, a place all mine and away from the men of the Mansion. And I didn't like the idea of his presence up there tainting it.

"Hey Bella," Seth said as he joined the table, a black T shirt draped across his shoulders. His body was as nearly perfect as Jacob's, a large tribal tattoo graced his right shoulder and upper arm, and some lettering in a language I didn't know trailing down his side. "How was your drive in?"

"Good," I replied warmly. "Not too long. The traffic wasn't all that insane this morning."

A couple conversations sparked in the large group, some laughing and others blatantly flirting for all to see. I was quiet, just casually observing the relationships in the group, old and new, and gaining a sense of familiarity with the people around me.

I felt someone watching me as time went on, and I turned to see Edward sitting alone on the steps leading from the house staring at me intently. I turned away quickly, deciding right then and there that I wasn't going to give him or his behavior any more of my attention. It was bad enough that I seemed to have developed an odd interest in him that differed from the other men; I didn't want to do anything to feed into it.

The guys went back to unloading the trucks eventually, leaving us women alone to enjoy our great view of the copious eye candy. We laughed and talked about the party, each sharing little stories about what had happened that night. It didn't sound like any of the other Betties had broken the rules like I had with Edward. Either that or that weren't revealing their actions, keeping it to themselves for the time being, just like I was.

Eventually the trucks were unloaded, and our picnic outside complete. We all headed inside and adjourned to our own rooms in order to prepare for the formal dinner the owner was hosting. I took a long shower, thinking over my mixed emotions of the day.

I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed by Edward's behavior. He was, after all, the subject of my nightly fantasies since the night of the party. I wanted so much to delve deeper into that part of him, hoping that his sensuality I'd discovered in that bathroom was only a glimpse of what he could offer me. I came to terms with the fact that I was thinking he could be that one I craved: the man who'd bring me pleasure. But I guessed after a week to think it over, I just didn't measure up in Edward's eyes. Perhaps his attitude today was his way of closing himself off to me. Or maybe it was something more. Either way, I was done worrying about it. Tonight, I officially would become a Betty, and it was with an anxious heart that I donned my black cocktail dress, and headed downstairs for dinner.

* * *

**The blog has been updated with bonus stuff from this chapter, as well as the Q&A that I promised. Check out all the pages, and the Trailer video for the story was moved to the Cullens page, along with a cast of all the main characters so far. As we get into the scenes, other characters will be added to the blog as well. **

**Also, there's a added area to the right that has links to the award sites that this story was nominated for. Thanks to whoever did that, and I'd be honored if you guys would vote for the Betty. She'd love it muy mucho!**

**Rec: DinkyBinky by UnintendedFrenzy. It's my first read of a Crackfic and it is stinkin' hilarity! I loved every second of it, even though there's only one chapter posted. **


	14. Chapter 13 The Meltdown

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to CandyCanesfly, Neliz, & MsMayfly for their eyes and thoughts. Couldn't ask for a better group of friends to work with on this. **

* * *

Chapter 13 - The Meltdown

~ Edward Masen ~

Moving Day

"Why the Hell are you sitting over here, Fucker?" Jacob asked, coming to sit his large ass down next to me on the porch steps.

"Fuck off," I told him, picking at a chip of paint on the side railing. I didn't meet his questioning stare, not wanting to begin to justify my chosen solitude.

"Shit, brother. I was only asking." He held up his hands in surrender, and I realized that my behavior needed to be checked before I made a bigger cluster-fuck of the situation than it already was.

"I was just thinking," I replied, my tone not as sharp as before. I still wasn't being friendly, by any means, but a flat response was all he was getting from me.

"Dude, the program hasn't even started. What in the fuck do you have to think about now, you spazz? Are you still acting all emo from this morning?"

"Fuck you," I replied with a little chuckle, realizing that I _had_ carried over my attitude from this morning. I didn't give a fuck, but Jake's comment made me think about how he'd tried to make me laugh by putting pancakes on his chest, then walked around the kitchen singing like Katy Perry. He'd always had a way of making me laugh, and when he and Emmett ganged up on me, I couldn't stay in one of my infamous emo fits for long.

I was being a moody bitch, I knew it. I didn't need Jacob to point that out to me to realize it. Despite his efforts to cheer me up early morning on moving day, I'd remained resolutely pissed and I didn't see that changing in the near future.

I could say that it was just a bad day or perhaps that I was PMSing as Jacob had joked, but I knew deep inside me what the source of my inner angst was.

It was her...

Emmett had let slip last night that Rosalie said Bella had received two motherfucking invites for a scene play next weekend. I knew that one of them was mine, but I didn't know who would've sent the other one. Technically, we weren't supposed to send them until after today: Moving Day. But after that time at the party when I'd had my fingers deep inside her, I knew I had to have her.

So now that my douche bag brother had told me someone else in the house was just as eager as I was made me think that perhaps Miss Bella was putting her cookies in a lot of other hand baskets. Maybe she'd made the same impression with the other Consorts as she had with me, and I didn't like that theory one damn bit.

Thinking about it made me incredibly angry, and I wasn't sure why. I'd like to say it was because I felt I'd been lied to in some way. I'd seen the way she looked at me after I'd made her cum on my hand. It was like she was witnessing the second coming, and I was her freakin' prophet and guide. She looked innocently amazed that her body could have that type of response by someone else, and if I was honest with myself, that fact made her even more desirable. Like a flower that hadn't been picked – perfect. But to think that it was all staged just to get a reaction out of me, that she might have had that look of rapture for someone else that night... I was a fucking bona fide mess.

I glanced up toward the group. There she stood, amongst her avid admirers as they enjoyed a lunch break, eating up their affections like it was candy. Better yet, like it was some sort of powerful aphrodisiac, making her turn from a curious observer into a viperous sex goddess. And why did I care so much that she seemed to be enjoying her time, only sparing me one cursory glance as I sat on the porch steps sulking?

It was because Carlisle's words had set my curiosity aflame.

"I can see it," he'd said to me with that all-knowing smirk he always wore when he'd bestow me with his supreme knowledge. Like having gone through the same damn program as me — fucking the same amount of pussy as I had — made him this wise and blessed elder. In fact, since I'd actually been a Consort for a longer period of time than him up until his mating, I'd venture to say that I had more experience taming the Betties. That should have made me more seasoned then him, right?

But no, he'd gone and made some off-handed comment that had my mind pondering its implication ever since.

I was a jumbled mess inside my thoughts, re-evaluating everything he'd said to me in the past as I'd gone through the tedious rounds of pledges. Had he ever said anything like that to me before? Had he made any kind of implication that he saw something more between a pledge and I at any point during this whole damn time that made me think he felt I shared some cosmic connection with someone? I would be lying if I said I'd hoped he had. But the fact was...he hadn't. So what did that mean?

Did he see something happening between Bella and me other than sex and lust? Could he tell that she had this pull about her that sparked my curiosity other than wanting to see her naked, to feel her ooze around me? And if he did, how was his presumption any more than that - a simple guess? He hadn't even see the two of us interact!

These were the questions nagging my brain, keeping me in a constant pissy mood because I didn't know what it all meant. So, taking that into account, why did I offer to go with Bella to get her things? Because I was a fool, that was why. Because there was something about Bella that I seemed to crave. Because I thought she'd be different then the others, less eager and more down to earth.

Because deep down inside me, I wanted Carlisle's suspicions to be correct.

But as I went with her to grab her things, I caught the covert glance she'd shared with Rosalie. Immediately my mind flashed to the observation deck last week, where I'd witnessed Bella being intimate with Rosalie and my brother. She was so sensuous that day, assertive, taking her pleasure into her own control. Those memories immediately brought a cacophony of combating thoughts to my mind, none of them good, leaving me bitter and angry.

Why did I care? Wasn't that what every man wanted: a woman who knew her body and acted on her desires! And didn't the fact that she was willing to play with another woman in the bedroom add a sultry bonus?

So why was I so bothered that Bella did exactly that?

It was because I realized as I walked toward her car, she ended up being just like the other Betties after all. She was only here to sate her own lust and desire, and nothing more. She'd put up this innocent front, but it was all just an act. She'd obviously made an impression on the Consorts at the party, evidenced by the multiple invitations she'd received before the games were even meant to get started. It was a harsh reality and I found it upsetting.

And there it was: the reason for my sour mood - I was disappointed.

I'd been struggling all week with Carlisle's words to me because they'd made me feel something that I couldn't explain. I was anxious and irritated with the fact that my mind had been occupied with conflicting thoughts and emotions about it all that I hadn't stopped to really assess what it truly meant. But being so close to her now, it was hard for me to ignore the plain reality.

The truth was I'd hoped Carlisle's observations were true. I hoped that the spark I'd felt for Bella was about more than lust and desire.

Deep down inside, two parts of myself were warring against each other: hope for something more versus lust to slake my body's selfish needs. One part wanted to keep the status quo and have my time with each Betty. Another part of me wanted to explore the new feelings I was having for Bella.

But seeing her standing there acting like what we shared in the bathroom meant nothing more to her than just a casual thing was a harsh reality. Not because I was hurt or upset, but because unbeknown to me, the hopeful side of me was more in control of things than I had realized. Maybe it was because I had genuine feelings for Bella, but I wanted to think it was because of Carlisle's claimed observation last week that had my thoughts so skewed. It was his fault, his rationales that he'd implanted in my mind, poisoning me.

Well fuck that shit...

Fuck the mind games and the foreign feelings of jealousy.

I was over it.

From that moment forward, I was resolved to forget it all and enjoy my last round with the program. It was poisoning my mind. Obviously I needed distance from the Cullens.

So I was rude and short with her, and she called me out on it, basically asking what my problem was. Could I have been cordial to her, have my time with her and move on? Sure. In fact, that probably would've been the smart thing to do. But instead I was an ass, and in true Edward Masen fashion, made a complete dick of myself, which led me to my current position - sulking on the porch steps staring daggers at the object of my obsession.

Eventually moving day had ended. I thought it best to stay distant from everyone while I was pissed off. The last thing I needed was to anger any more Betties inadvertently; that would really sour up my stock of pussy. So I remained aloof, distant, mysterious.

I showered for a long time that evening, taking my raging cock in my fist and addressing the state of arousal I'd been consumed with the whole damn day. Resting my head on the cool shower tile, I panted and shivered, trying to get my breathing under control as the one image I tried whole-heartedly to avoid came rushing to my mind.

"Take me," she purred in my ear as if she was there with me in the shower stall. "Claim me, teach me, make me yours..."

In my mind's eye, I saw her slender form appear behind me, her gentle fingers following the trail of water streaming down my taut back. I could feel her fingernails scratching, teasing, my muscles becoming more rigid as she moved.

"You can't avoid me," she declared, her voice a wicked decree whispered reboundingly off the tiled walls. "You can't forget me..."

Her hands moved up toward my shoulders, massaging the tension out of my body, her sensuous mouth right by my ear. I could feel her lips brush against my lobe, felt her hot breath upon my neck.

"I'm exactly what you need, precisely what you crave..." her teeth at nipped my skin sending a shock of heat radiating through my body. My eyes squeezed shut, my breath hitching in my throat.

"I know your body, Edward," she purred as her hands moved around my wet hips, the fingers tracing the low 'V' muscles to the place that burned for her touch. The action moved her closer to me, and there was an almost unbearable moment of anticipation before I knew her naked flesh would be touching mine.

I felt the hard tips of her nipples first, plump and erect, brush against the skin of my back. The feeling of it made me unbelievably hard, and I felt myself twitch in my hand.

Like melted butter over a warmed biscuit, I felt her body meld into me, felt her bare chest laying flush against my back. Her ample breasts pushed into the hard muscles and I noted their firmness with aching clarity.

"Don't I meet your needs?" she asked, her lips against my flesh. "Don't I know where you want me to touch you?" as she said this, I felt her fingers curve over my hard length, her hand replacing my own. My freed hand slammed against the shower wall, bracing myself against the onslaught of sensation. With expert skill, Bella fisted my aching erection, pumping me with sure, smooth strokes, making it almost impossible not to moan out loud.

I became lost in the sensations, my body hard and rigid under her skilled torment. I wanted to turn and grab her, throw her sopping wet body against the cool tile, and fuck her tight pussy until she screamed. But I was afraid to move, afraid to speak.

"I'm in you, Edward," she told me with a sorceress promise. "and I want you in me..."

My eyes flew open at her words, my heart hammering in anticipation. But before I could move or think, a flash of brown caught my attention, and the feeling of warm, supple lips around my cock stopped all coherent thought or reason. I looked down and was caught in the most alluring pools of brown fudge I'd ever seen. Lust, need, desire, aching pain...all of it reflected back at me. Bella was squatted before me, sucking me off like an expert. She had her legs spread wide, bent at the knee, giving me a glorious view of both her bare pussy and her gorgeous mouth as she worked me over: one hand grasping the rest of the length she couldn't fit in, the other hand playing with her exposed clit ferociously.

Her full tits bounced a little every time she'd pump her mouth over me, and I wished I could touch them, feel how firm and supple they were. Just as the idea formed, Bella removed her hand from my cock, her mouth never losing rhythm, and began to play with the nipple on her right breast, teasing me.

The sight was so erotic - her mouth around me, her expressive, doe-like eyes watching me, her little devilish hands working herself over - that it took me a moment to realize I could still feel someone behind me. The unmistakable feel of warm breasts pushing into my back froze me for just a moment until she spoke.

"I'm here to please you, baby. In any way I can. Every way..."

Bella...

She'd returned to hold me, or perhaps she never left. My mind wasn't lucid enough to question how she could me behind me while simultaneously sucking me dry. I'd given up logic and reason, handing myself over to the bliss and torment my sex goddess blessed upon me.

From behind, I felt small, warm hands run down my back in flow with the hot shower spray. She tantalized my flesh, massaging me, feeling me, teasing me, all while a luscious mouth bathed my cock with precise expertise.

Her tiny fingers danced sensuously down the curve of my back and along my ass, coming down further until she was unbearably close to my anus. There was that place on a man that, no matter how hard he argued against it, served as the most pleasurable erogenous spot, adding a sting of hot heat to any orgasm. And damned if she didn't find it. Just as I felt the tip of my cock hit the back of her cavernous throat, Bella's fingers touched the area between my anus and sack, pressing lightly. I cried out loud, the sensation overwhelming.

"That's it, baby," she purred hotly. "Do you see how good I am for you? How well I can please you? Give yourself to me."

"Bella..." I whisper moaned in response, and I heard the slight tinkling of laughter in my ear. It fuelled some kind of masochistic fire inside of me, one that wanted to claim, to devour. It seemed this little vixen thought she had the upper hand, some strange power over me. And although she had me surrounded, I would show her exactly how well I was versed in the art of making a woman scream.

"I'll take that challenge," her voice said above me, and I opened my eyes that I hadn't realized were closed to see to see Bella standing slightly above me, her footing on the shower seat that was situated on the corner. She was looking down at me with a challenging smirk, and I returned it back with full confidence.

Using my ample upper body strength, I threw her free leg around my shoulder, exposing her bare, dripping pussy directly in front of my mouth. She was positioned so the water from the shower head ran down her slit in a little waterfall, and I dove in tongue first.

She tasted remarkable, like melted honey and cinnamon spice. I devoured her, adding to my own pleasure as I did. With Bella standing behind me, working my body over, her lips on my wet back. Bella below me, taking me in deeply, her tongue and lips working in synchrony. Bella above me, her pussy clamping down on my tongue. The sensations were too much, too explosive. And as I felt Bella's body shake with pleasure, my own orgasm ripped through me with the force of a hurricane storm. I roared through it, giving in to my animalistic side as streams of seed shot down Bella's throat.

Panting uncontrollably, it took me a moment to come back to reality. And when I opened my eyes and saw the trail of semen running down the shower wall, my fist still securely clamped over my own softening cock, I knew beyond any doubt that I was deep in trouble.

Bella Swan was seriously going to be the death of me. I was so fucked...

* * *

**That _had_ to be a fanfiction first! A foursome with Eddie & three Bella's...?**

**And my betas laugh at me cause that all stemmed from a dream. Go figure...**

**So here's the thing, I really hate doing this but there is an award The Betty is up for that I _really, really, really_ want to win. I'm up against pretty stiff competition (har har), but I'm hoping you guys will pull together as my Betty Pledges and get this story noticed. It's for the Fic that leaves you Hot and Bothered (aka Hottest fic)**

**Here's the link: http:/ glospawards (dot) blogspot (dot) com / vote**

**Thanks to TLammy for the nomm**

**Now, leave me some lovin' :D I know it was a short chap, but the next one is going to be longer. Plus, this was just about Eddie bitchin'. **

**Pics are up on the Observation Deck at the blog! Thanks to mskathy again:D**


	15. Chapter 14 The Dinner

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to CandyCanesfly, Neliz, & MsMayfly for their eyes and thoughts. Couldn't ask for a better group of friends to work with on this. **

* * *

Chapter 14 - The Dinner

**Bella Pledge, Moving Day 7:45pm**

_Okay, Bella. This is it - what you've been waiting for. Time to see if you've got the tits to follow through with your darkest desires..._

I walked out of my new room at the Cullen Mansion into the vacant hallway, my stomach in my throat and my palms a sweaty mess. This was it—tonight I'd officially be welcomed as a Cullen.

I wasn't sure what to expect tonight. In my mind, I pictured some kind of formal affair, perhaps similar to the 'Rose Ceremony' that I'd seen on one of those reality shows.

Rosalie laughed when I asked her if there'd be something like that. 'It's not the Bachelorette, Bella,' she'd chuckled. I just shrugged — to me it seemed that the program and the show had so many congruencies; it would be a nice fit. Rosalie just shook her head and muttered something under her breath that I didn't quite catch.

She did say that there would be a welcoming of sorts that evening from the owners. Since they were unable to make it to the costume party, they wanted to have a night dedicated just for the new Pledges. Rosalie also mentioned that they would have our care packages, which automatically piqued my interest. She didn't elaborate any further, saying that it was 'no big deal', but her vagueness left me incredibly anxious.

And when she divulged the little detail that the Dames would not be in attendance tonight I'd immediately became almost panicked. I was quickly becoming attached to Rosalie in more ways than one. She'd become a friend and someone I could depend on. Alice had always been my little champion in life, and I'd held our friendship in the highest regard, but since being at the Mansion, Alice remained a little distant to keep up the illusion that our "acquaintance" was only as classmates in college. It was harder than Hell to pretend, but with Rosalie there to back me up, it was easier to deal with the new situation I'd put myself in.

But facing a night with a group of sexually charged men and women without either of my best girls beside me was incredibly daunting.

Standing outside my door, I found myself so jittery that I had to calm my nerves with a small pep talk just to make it as far as I had. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest. My mouth was dry and my eyes were wide with anticipation.

The hallway was dissolute, silent. An eerie sense of foreboding crept over me, and in that moment, it seemed the corridor lengthened ominously, tunneling me into a dark void where the weight of my choices came crashing down upon my chest. It was like a huge stone sat there, forcing my sternum into my heart, making my pulse pound furiously.

Suddenly I started to second guess my motivations for being here. Was I some kind of selfish harlot for making my own sexual desires a priority? Was it crazy of me to abandon my life, move in with a group of complete strangers, and basically forego a huge chunk of my upcoming royalties to a sex club?

What did that say about me?

_Enough, Bella! You've made your decision. Get your panties on straight and do this good and proper._

I pushed the negative thoughts aside, locking them firmly behind an iron vault. I was done worrying, done justifying.

I'd always considered myself to be a well-reasoned person, and if I'd been able to find a solid enough rationale to justify filling out the application to begin with — even if I couldn't quite remember that reason at the moment — I needed to trust my initial conclusion.

I was a strong, beautiful, sexual woman with a healthy curiosity and willingness to explore. This was my time to do what I wanted, whether that was selfish of me or not, it didn't matter. And if I happened to find a partner like Alice had, then that was all the better for me. But my main goal was to not only learn more about myself sexually, but also to help myself grow into the woman I wanted to be.

"Bella!" I turned the corner onto the large staircase to see a beaming Angela at the bottom, looking at me with the same excitement I had broiling inside. "You look stunning."

I blushed at her compliment and quickly returned one of my own. She really did look beautiful. She had on a long, deep green velvet dress with a plunging neckline, accenting and complementing her figure. Her hair was piled high on top of her head in a sleek chignon, with a few snake-like tendrils falling loose, leaving the majority of her slim neckline exposed. She had the most gorgeous pair of tear-drop diamond earring on, completing her starlet appearance. The whole look screamed of wealth and class.

I, on the other hand, had chosen a small black cocktail dress, with a high neckline, a formfitting bodice, and low scooped back. My hair was a jumbled mess of curls at my crown, leaving my bare back exposed. The cut of the dressed reached just above the knee. It was flirtatious yet youthful, and my original thought when choosing tonight's attire was that I'd feel comfortable in something like this because it reflected how I wanted to be perceived by the Cullens — free, light, and easy-going.

I found myself second guessing my choice seeing how elegant Angela looked in comparison.

"I feel under-dressed," I told her honestly, adding a small chuckle at the end to hide my extreme discomfort.

"Don't be silly," she answered genuinely, taking my arm as I made my final descent. "You look wonderful. The boys will be drooling tonight."

I giggled despite my nervousness, the anticipation of the evening clouding any apprehension as she lead me down the hall toward the sitting room, arm in arm.

I heard Angela let out a wavering sigh as we came close to our destination. "You nervous?" I asked, tightening my hold on her arm in reassurance.

"Excited?" she replied, but it came out sounding more like a question than I think she intended it to. "I don't know," she chuckled, seeing my questioning glance at her tone. "I guess it's more of a nervous excitement. Like the night before a big game, you know?"

Over the day, I was able to get to know the Betties better - well, Angela and Jessica, mostly. For reasons unknown to me, Lauren and Tanya were still being oddly standoffish. But in our afternoon, watching the boys work up a sweat, I'd learned that Angela had been an accomplished volleyball player in college, winning the women's championship both in her junior and senior years at OSU. She'd jokingly challenged us to a game, even formulating a tentative plan to play the guys at one point — the Betties versus the Consorts.

_That would be interesting... And probably wrought with sexual tension. Bring it on..._

Making the comparison to a game night now just emphasized how different I was compared to these women. Having been born with two left feet, I was never athletically inclined. In fact, I hadn't really done much of anything in my youth except for take care of my disabled father, keeping him away from the booze, and managing the household so we wouldn't find ourselves homeless. My father received a nice check from the police department every month since he'd been injured on duty, but he'd found online gambling and binging every night a nice way to occupy his time. And on those nights that I was a little too late with my babysitting duties and Charlie was already passed out with an empty fifth on his lap, I spent the down time reading and writing short stories.

Back in those days I'd always said that life had a funny way of shitting on me. Some people called it Karma, others said it was just what life dealt to me. I was kind of hoping the former was true, because that would mean that I was due my fair share of goodness any moment now. But Karma seemed to be the biggest bitch of them all, because all I seemed to get was the shit... No good, only heartache, devastation, and loss...

Like I said, my background completely differed from these upper class women.

I turned to Angela and shrugged my shoulders in reply, not really able to empathize with her comparison, but understanding the meaning just the same.

We paused automatically outside the closed double doors to the sitting room, our actions so synchronized it was if we'd planned it.

"You ready?" I asked her, anticipation laced in my tone. She nodded emphatically, and we both reached for the door to swing it open.

My eyes scanned the dimly lit room, trying to take so much in at once.

Several of the Consorts were dispersed around the room, chatting happily to the remaining Betties. The men were dressed to the nines, looking devastatingly delectable in collared silk shirts and pants, tailored and pressed. The women were just as elegant, reformed and decked out in designer gowns and dripping with jewels.

I heard Angela talking to someone briefly, her arm leaving mine as she turned to the side.

The sitting area was open and welcoming, with a large hearth and fire serving as the focal point. The décor was done in English antique with a modern flair, and the color palette was warm and inviting, offering a mild dose of comfort given the subtle tension in the room.

There were several men I didn't recognize in matching white collared shirts and black dress pants holding platters of hors d'oeuvres and tall glasses of champaign. I had just finished reaching for a flute, bringing the sweet nectar to my lips, when I caught a sharp sense of uneasiness spread through me. Wondering its source, my eyes quickly glanced about the room, trying to pinpoint the feeling of impending doom.

That's when I saw her...

Standing in the middle of the room, staring glaciers in my direction, was none other than the Queen Bitch herself — Lauren.

Our eyes met for a brief moment as I made my way into the room, and in that second I could've sworn that she was trying to ensnare me in some kind of voodoo, telepathic death grip. Her posture was stiff, unmoving. Her eyes were laced with disdain, narrowed, but not enough to give an outside observer any clue as to the sheer hate she was emanating.

I felt a chill run through me, and suddenly the words of a Hail Mary prayer my grandmother had taught me in my youth came springing forth into my mind like some kind of talisman. My body automatically stalled, my inner organs curling in on themselves for protection from the death rays.

I tried to offer her a smile, hoping to portray a sense of kindness — a sort of olive branch to see if she'd relinquish her attack, but to no avail. In fact, I thought my attempt at friendliness may have made it worse, for a semblance of a grin formed on her cruel lips. Instead of it being kind or warming, however, it radiated pure evil. Like the sneer from a Hell beast ready to pounce, her mouth curved, white teeth barred.

"What the hell is her problem?" I heard Angela ask, and suddenly reality came flooding back to me. In that blissful second I realized that I was not about to be devoured by the she-bitch, my insides charred to smithereens, because I wasn't alone standing at the Hellmouth. I had witnesses, friends to come and pull me back from the edge!

I turned to look at Angela, my hate-filled stand-off with Loco Lauren broken, and saw my dear friend giving her own version of a stink-eye right back at the evil harpy.

"I don't know," I replied, shrugging my shoulders and smiling with small amusement at seeing my girl getting her hackles up on my behalf. I was so glad to have her with me in that moment, especially since Alice wasn't here to fulfill her place as my usual guard dog when Karma came after me. "I guess she has it out for me."

"Why?" she asked, her tone loud enough that I knew it carried within hearing distance of the she-devil. "She doesn't even know you."

"Guess I rub her the wrong way."

"Well, I think she's jealous," Angela announced firmly, and this time, I knew the skank heard her; there was no way she couldn't have. I chanced a glance back to Lauren to gauge her reaction, but her gaze was still firmly on me, acting as though she heard naught a word from Angela. I heard a small growl rumble from Angela's direction, but I didn't turn to address it, for in that moment, Lauren's gaze slid from my face, down my dress, finally landing on my shoes.

Now, considering my recent experience with Rosalie, I knew that some women were considered to be bisexual, but predominately hetero in preference. To one who was not trained in the ways of the bitchiness, her actions may have been mistaken for such an appraisal. But I was born and raised in Bakersfield, California, and I'd had my fair share of catty, downright dirty women who saw their chance to get out of the trailer park in the few jocks who had scouts and promises of scholarships; those boys who just happened to be interested in me instead of them. I saw Lauren's actions for what they truly were.

She didn't think I lived up to the Cullen standards...

The way her eyebrow curved into a high arch of disdain as she took in my old Vera Wang dress topped with a pair of last season Brian Atwood's... How the side of her mouth rose in a slight smirk at my obvious lack of appropriate attire for the evening... But the clincher, and in my opinion, the key evidence pointing to her conclusion of me, was the gentle eye roll she displayed before turning away from me and capturing Tanya's attention.

_Fucking. Shrew!_

It might have been my own insecurities peeking through, but I'd bet ten to one that harpy was talking about how I dressed with her hag of a partner, Tanya. The way they'd both latched onto Jessica that night in the limo, feeding off of her fear and nervousness like two blood sucking pariahs, didn't leave me with any false hope that they'd turned over a new leaf over the last week. And as I watched the wicked bitch of the west throw her head back and laugh at something Tanya said, then turn to me and give me a snide little sneer, just solidified my pissy mood for the evening.

"Fuck them," Angela sneered beside me. "They are just acting like that because of the way the boys responded when you walked into the room."

I turned to my friend, my eyes automatically rolling in my head a little at her outright fib. "Sure, Ang. Just ignore them. They leech off fear like a vampire to blood."

**Edward Masen, Moving Day 7:40pm**

_Just don't talk to her, Cullen. Keep your head above water and don't even try to make conversation. Just take her, fuck her in the back room, and call it good. Demons destroyed, curiosity sated..._

I stood at the roaring fireplace in the sitting room, staring into the orange flame like all life's answers resided within it. It held me captive; not by the tantalizing dance of the fire hypnotizing me.

No.

It was because one of the logs burning near the bottom looked an awful like the brunette goddess that haunted my every waking minute. Her supple chest barred, her legs a long enticement, her body alight with a passionate fire that burned her, just as my desire for her destroyed me.

She sang to me there in the flames, the heat around her serving as a mating call. And if I wasn't so damn desperate, I might have been able to pull myself from her enthrallment. But no, she had me in her snare.

"You in a better mood?" Jacob asked me, pulling my attention back to the land of sanity. He clamped his overtly large mitt on my shoulder, making my body buckle slightly under the weight of it.

"Getting there," I answered him with a curt nod, holding up three fingers of whiskey in my glass. I glanced back at the fire in time to see the flames consume my Bella log, and a part of me felt a sharp pain of loss.

_Pathetic..._

The other part of me — the part that still had enough dignity to feel ashamed — gut-punched the pathetic sap, called him a pussy, and spit on him as he writhed in agony.

I took another deep pull on my drink.

"Jesus," Jacob replied on a chuckle. "Pace yourself, Eddie. You drink like that this early in the game you're going to end up saying something to someone that you'll regret."

"You say that like it's happened before," Seth replied, coming up to join us by the fireplace. Jacob laughed.

"Remember that time on the island when he drank all that rum?" he asked Seth, his expression eager. Seth laughed, clamping his hand down on Jacob's shoulder, enjoying the chance to remember another one of my royal fuck ups.

"Oh yeah," he gasped between breathless guffaws. "I will never forget that shit. It was priceless!"

"He was standing there on the beach with an empty bottle in his hand, screaming at the top of his lungs 'Why is the rum always gone?'" Jacob replied, doing a piss poor imitation of my brilliant rendition of Johnny Depp, if I do say so myself.

"Shut it, fucker," I told him through a chuckle. "It wasn't all that dramatic."

"The fuck it wasn't," Seth challenged. "You even had the hand gestures in there and everything."

"Shove off," I told them, taking another swig of whiskey as the two asstards laughed beside me.

The door to the sitting room opened and the three of us turned to see two of the Betties arrive. As they sauntered through the doorway, they both took in the room in a grand glance, their heads held high in the common appraisal of the wealthy and elite. Once it seemed they approved of the décor, both their eyes feasted on their awaiting Consorts.

They both looked beautiful in elegant attire, showcasing their curves and a little bit of leg; enough to leave me interested. As they saw us watching them, their expressions changed in front of my eyes. They transformed into sex kittens before us, their body language open and eager.

"Ripe and ready," I heard Jacob say in a low tone; Seth giving him a small nod in agreement. I felt my mouth curve in a small smirk, thinking of how true his statement was.

Suddenly, I found myself not so consumed with only _one_ of the Betties. I thought that perhaps seeing another woman or two waiting and wanting me might just be the thing I needed to get _her_ off my mind...and out of my shower.

_This is exactly what I need..._my inner hound dog praised, then kicked the pathetic sap one more time for good measure.

The girls approached us, making themselves available in their mannerisms; like ripe grapes on the vine.

One of them was named Tanya. I had met her the night of the party and thought she seemed really sweet. Her body was perfect, tall and trim, with just the right amount of curves. But the thing I'd remembered most about her that night was the fact that her gargantuan fake titties were about to pop out of her top. I'd never been the one to like the feel of silicone, but I could appreciate the way they looked in a bikini top or under me as I fucked their owner senseless.

As far as the other one was concerned, she seemed like a different breed of woman. I couldn't for the life of me remember her name; only that she was incredibly forward. We never had what some might call a proper introduction. I do remember watching her trial, though, and was mesmerized by her vivid blue eyes as she came.

She'd cornered me at the party at one point, grabbing me through my pants to see if I 'measured up'. I'd never taken to women who were crass like that, but now considering the jumbled mess my brain was in thanks to a certain brunette Betty, I figured that perhaps someone as wild as she seemed might have been exactly what I needed.

"Good evening," I told her, giving her my infamous panty-dropping smile as I brought her hand to my lips.

"Evening," she replied, her voice a silken caress of pleasure. "You look good enough to eat."

"Funny, I was thinking the same damn thing," I replied. I saw something flash in her eyes at that moment. They seemed to darken slightly, and the temperature in the room spiked suddenly.

As I continued to flirt shamelessly with my blue-eyed vixen who's name I learned was Lauren, I could hear the sap inside my mind attempt to sit up and dust off his broken body. He wanted his say, wanted to remind me of my brunette lover and how she made my toes curl with just an imagined whisper in my ear. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, however, the hound dog made a blitz attack, taking his ass down to the ground and resolutely sitting on his head, arms crossed, motioning me to go ahead and continue to woo said blue-eyed girl into the back room for a little rule breaking.

"I've been hoping to get you alone for a while now," she purred to me, her fingernails running along the seam of my shirt, threatening to cut the threads of the buttons in a catlike move. "You see, I don't think our original meeting gave you a proper assessment of me."

"I beg to differ," I told her, my hand snaking around her waist to rest right above the curve of her bottom. Her dress was low cut in the back, and I smiled wryly as my fingers came in contact with bare skin. "I think I found out exactly what I needed to know."

"And what was that?" she asked, looking up at me through her lashes, her gorgeous blue eyes keeping me entranced. In the back of my mind I heard the muffled sounds of the sap's protests, but I ignored it just as the hound dog threw a sharp elbow to his nads, putting him back into a comatose state.

"That you're my kind of woman," I told her, pulling her body closer to mine so she could feel the chubby I was sporting right above her pelvic bone. She didn't need to know that said chub was a residual left over from my fire-log temptress. It served its purpose.

She smiled at me, telling me with her eyes that she would be willing to let me do very naughty things to her body, and my mind started to create a plethora of visions where she was bent over backwards, writhing and chanting my name in ecstasy.

At that moment, the doors to the sitting room opened once again, and in walked the woman of my fantasies.

Bella...

_Fuck._

I wanted her. Just that quickly, my mind did a complete one eighty, making her the starring role in my visions, bent over my bed with her glorious ass on display. I felt myself harden impossibly, and just like that, I was a man on a fucking mission.

Tonight, I'd make her mine.

And it didn't help that the woman looked like the proverbial wet dream. The front of her was all proper and conservative, giving off the impression of a politician's wife or a trophy girlfriend. But when she turned at the door to take a look around, I saw that the back of her dress left her entire spine visible.

Instant inner orgasm...

She looked like a little lost kitten, gorgeous but out of place. It wasn't because of her choice of attire or the fact that she'd decided a cocktail dress was better than what the other women had on. It was because she looked like a white dove amongst a pack of rabid wolves. Pristine. Innocent. Pure...

And like a super hero with insane strength, the sap threw off the dog, his muscles flexing and body taut with need as he stared at her wantonly.

"Excuse me," I told Lauren quickly, dodging away from her quickly to regain my bearings before the sap took over my mind and proclaimed his undying love to the little lost Betty.

I heard Lauren try and call me back to her, but Bella's grand appearance tonight had my mind whirling, and I didn't trust myself to be able to effectively flirt with the girl without glancing at Bella every five seconds to make sure she wasn't doing the same with someone else. It was alright for me to leave my basket half full, but fuck her if she thought her body wasn't for me and me alone. I'd make her remember; I'd imprint myself on her body, her mind, and her soul...

_What the fuck?_

I had to get out of there, separate myself from this atmosphere before I did something I'd regret later. I knew all this obsession with her had to be due to her virginal quality. She looked just so damn innocent, and if I hadn't seen her with Rosalie and Emmett with my own two eyes, I would have claimed that she didn't have had the balls to do something like that until my last breath. Even now I was convinced that the only reason she even did that sort of thing was because she wanted to feel a part of the crowd. I wanted to teach her, claim her, help her learn all the pleasures her body had unexplored. And then once I was done with her and she was left a wanton mess of Jello on my floor, I'd move onto the next one...

It was that simple...

But I'd have her first. I had to make sure of it. I'd take her in the bathroom again. No, in the library. Yes! I could take her on the piano; make sweet, sweet music to her pussy lips...

I was broken out of my inner dastardly plans by a sharp wrap at a crystal goblet and a light clearing of a throat. I looked up to see Carlisle standing in the middle of the room, addressing the guests at large. I silently wondered how long I'd been lost in my thoughts, for the room was filled with Pledges and Consorts, as well as my Aunt and Uncle in the center of it all.

"Good evening everyone. I'm so thrilled to start another year with the program as the manager. Esme and I welcome you all to the Cullens and hope that you will take what you can away from this experience. I can tell you that everything we learned here has helped Esme and I have a complete and fulfilled relationship, and I couldn't have been happier with my results."

I heard Mike say something over in the corner that earned a few laughs from those in hearing distance. I glanced over to him in curiosity and saw Bella standing next to him, her eyes alight with humor. She looked so beautiful, her smile light and carefree. I felt a part of me rip deep inside, but I didn't have time to question or research that odd occurrence further. It was then that I realized that Mike had his hand placed gently on Bella's bare shoulder, his thumb rubbing along the silken skin in a gentle caress.

_MY SKIN! _

The sap and the dog roared together in protest. I glanced at Bella to see if Mike's actions were offensive to her in anyway. She just stood there beaming at Carlisle as he spoke, listening to his every word, oblivious to the fact that Mike was practically groping her in front of everyone.

I stared at her for several minutes as Carlisle droned on with his welcoming speech, daring her to show anymore affection for another man. I wanted her to look at me, needed her to see how much desire I had for her, to know that she was mine and I'd take her before anyone of these other fuckers could.

In a blink of an eye, I saw her glance at me. The contact was brief and uneventful, except for how telling her action was. You see, I knew that she could feel me watching her – could feel the heat of my wanton stare. It wasn't by her expression or the fact that her attention seemed so fixed on Carlisle inane words of welcome.

It was her tense posture, the way she held her chest out forward slightly, her legs crossed below her to calm the ache. How she held her head to the side slightly, presenting her silken neck to me like she wanted me to lick her pulse.

It was in the slight movements that told me she knew I was watching, knew that I burned for her. She wouldn't hold my gaze — it would be too much for her, so I couldn't blame her. I held her attention just as assuredly as she held mine. She just wouldn't admit it, not in a public setting like this, and especially not after I treated her the way I did earlier in the day.

Bella was probably still pissed at me for my cockward ways, and I didn't blame her. I was an asshole; I knew it. So did everyone else in this damn house. But I'd make her forget my actions, my words. I'd make her forget her mother f'ing name!

"And so, before we begin the feast Ms. Cope had prepared for us, I'd like to take the opportunity to welcome the lovely Betties properly."

Carlisle turned to his wife, taking one of the dark boxes she had in a velvet lined basket.

"This is something that has been somewhat of a tradition for the pledges," he told the group at large, but mostly speaking to the women. He presented the flat shaped box made of the finest mahogany wood like it was Pandora's long lost treasure.

"I want you girls to know that we cherish every single one of you." He paused for a moment, making sure to make eye contact with each lady so that they could feel his sincerity before he continued. "This is but a small token of our friendship and loyalty. I hope you take them with the knowledge that you mean more to us than any financial stipulation could covey."

"Much more," Mike replied, holding up his champaign goblet in a small salute. A couple of the girls giggled at his comment. I saw Bella's eyes tense slightly, but she had a smile plastered on her face. I watched with great delight as she inched away from Mike under the pretense of talking to another Betty, but I could see her ruse for what it was. Mike's asstard comment offended her.

_One Consort down, fuckers!_

During the rest of the evening I saw Bella glance at me furtively from time to time. I noted how she seemed to distance herself away from me, sitting at the complete opposite end of the table but still remaining in my line of sight. Nothing she did passed by me unnoticed — not the way she moved, how she interacted, or how she drank more than her own weight that night, but only precariously nibbled on her food.

She was biding her time, that was all it was. I was coming for her tonight. I'd take her. One way or another, I'd make her mine.

**Bella Pledge, Moving Day 8:45pm**

I didn't get what his problem was. I mean really, why the fuck was he staring at me all damn night? I thought he hated me, but yet Edward couldn't seem to take his eyes off me. And his blank expression didn't give any hint to what he was thinking – a fact that left me incredibly anxious.

I swear, I thought my stomach was going to implode with nerves. Did I have something on my face? Was I really dressed that improperly that he felt he had to make me feel ever _more _self-conscious?

Fuck!

I could feel the prim and proper mask I'd put on for the evening getting closer and closer to taking a hike as the hours dragged on, all while Edward continued his endless staring party. If he didn't stop his fucking bullshit intimidation tactics, I was going to stand up in the middle of that dining room and tell him to go fuck himself.

I'd had enough of the righteous indignation from Lauren that evening, having to deal with her snide looks and apparent whispers of disdain throughout the meal. I didn't think Dickward could top that, but it seemed he was set out to prove me wrong!

As the servers came to clear our dinner plates, filling orders for drinks and taking requests for dessert, I had to excuse myself from the table under the excuse of needing the powder room.

Inwardly, I was ready to explode with anger.

Fuck Lauren and her petty bullshit! Fuck Edward and his extremely brooding good looks! Fuck this bull shit, I was better than all that.

I made my way down the hall, trying to find a suitable place to gather my thoughts. Maybe some fresh air would do me some good, I decided, and made my way to the side exit and out into the garden.

The evening was cool, and part of me thought it was silly of me to come traipsing out here in the middle of a dinner party. I was sure that Lauren and her evil crony Tanya would probably think I was running away because I couldn't take the heat, but I didn't care.

They were probably right.

It was just after everything I'd been through in my life, I really didn't have energy to spend on petty bull shit like their superiority. I could give two shits less what they thought of me. I just didn't think their behavior toward me was fair.

Those girls didn't have a clue who I was, and Edward, well, he could just go fly himself off the nearest damn bridge for all I cared.

I sat down on a stone bench overlooking the luscious grounds. The cold bite of the marble radiated through the thin material of my dress, but I didn't mind it. It was a change from the raw anger I felt inside me, and I'd take any small reprieve I could get.

"It's a little chilly for you to be out here tonight half naked, don't you think?" I heard his silken voice behind me, and I almost melted into a liquid pool of goo despite the frigid air. I closed my eyes against the onslaught of heady emotions running through me, the least of which was my anger, unfortunately.

"I'm not half naked," I replied, trying my damnedest to keep my tone flat.

"I beg to differ," he said with a smile in his voice, and I knew even though I couldn't see him, he had that damn slanted-ass smirk on his face. "I can see half of your body right now."

"Well get your fill in now, 'cause this is as much as you'll be allowed to see. Trust that."

"Oh, I think I'll get you completely bare before the night is out."

"Fuck off," I said, this time I let my rage peek out a little bit to throw him off the scent of what his words did to me.

"Tut, tut, little one. A mouth like that can find you in all sorts of naughty places," he told me in a seductive croon.

"And none of them will find you there with me," I retorted bitterly as I stood from the bench and walked in the opposite direction, away from his silken promises of hot sex and steamy nights.

I couldn't allow this sudden reappearance of the green-eyed sex god I'd met last weekend to sway my judgment of him. He'd treated me appallingly today, and I would in no way allow him to do more than look at me if I had my say. Unfortunately the growling sex kitten within me wanted to throw him down on the ground that minute and make him play out his dirty thoughts.

I hurried down the veranda, proud that I got away from him without further incident or hateful words. I ventured along the cobblestone walkway, toward the back acreage without tripping in my four inch heels. Despite my need to distance myself from Edward et al, I felt a strange pull in my gut the further away I got. I paused by a large oak tree, taking a moment to catch my breath and organize my rampant thoughts.

"You didn't think I'd let you leave me that easily, did you?" I heard Edward say, and I whirled around to find him behind me, staring at me smugly with his hands dug deep in his pockets. My hands flew to my hips, my defenses flaring once more.

"Ever heard of the term privacy?" I asked him hotly.

"Ever heard of the term fuck me harder?" he asked, smiling when my breath caught at his words.

"Pig," I told him rudely, turning my back on him in defiance despite the pounding in my chest and the ache undulating beneath my dress.

"Tease," I heard him retort, his voice closer to me than before. I could feel the heat from his body radiate into my bare back as he came upon me, pressing into my exposed flesh. I felt my skin dimple and burn with his close proximity; my nipples pushing through the lace of my bra and my body was set aflame despite the cool breeze in the air.

It was as if there was an electrical current in the air that charged and spiked any time he was near me.

Oh how I hated the reaction he evoked inside me. Even from our first encounter, he'd been like this rich drug to my system, one that had all four of my senses alight and preening for attention.

"I'm not a tease," I told him, hating myself that my voice wavered a little on the delivery. "Teasing implies me making promises I won't keep. Believe me when I say I _promise_ you that you will never be my Consort."

"And why is that?" he asked, his breath on the shell of my ear. My vision blurred as my eyes rolled slightly at the feeling.

A sudden desperate plea from somewhere deep inside me screamed to let Edward back in, to give him a second chance because there had never been another man to make me feel so alive with just whispered words. But my self-worth and pride seemed to overshadow my needs, and with a deep breath, I turned and told him exactly how I felt about him.

"Because I would never give myself to a man who felt I was worth nothing more than an orgasm," I told him roughly, looking deep into his eyes so that he could see the truth in my words. I'd never let a man treat me like nothing more than a means to an end, and that was exactly how he'd made me feel today by the car.

I saw a slight tension in his eyes, but his gaze never wavered from mine. He stood there staring at me, seeming to read something in my expression that caused him pain. I stood my ground, never wavering in my stance or my opinion of him, despite how it made my heart hammer seeing him change into a man I didn't recognize before me.

He seemed different, tortured, and it was then that I saw the truth within him; the one thing that probably could've been the only emotion to change my horrible assessment of Edward Masen.

Humility...

Edward was ashamed.

He was embarrassed, I could read it as plain as day on his expression, and that little voice deep inside me reared her head once more, whispering words of second chances and heady nights of passion.

"I don't know what to say, Bella," Edward told me as he took a step back. His posture and stature was completely different from the self-assured man he'd been only moments prior. "I never meant to make you feel that way."

"And yet you did."

"I truly didn't mean to, Bella. I was just dealing with...something...today, and I didn't know how to cope with it, I guess."

"So you thought treating me like pond scum would make you feel better?" I asked, my voice slightly softer than before.

"No," he answered, running his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. The action was so genuine that I felt part of my resolve weaken slightly. "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I'd never think of you like that."

"Why not?" I asked with a humorless chuckle. "You don't know me, and it's not like I didn't offer myself up to you on a silver platter. I guess all of us Betties seem like mindless sluts to you, don't we?"

"I don't view any of you like that," he retorted hotly, his tone becoming defensive. "I have a lot of respect for the Betties."

"Really? 'Cause it seemed like you were heading out here for a quick fuck." I turned abruptly to head back to the house, wanting him to sit and simmer in my accusation as my mind started whirling with new questions about all of this Cullen bullshit.

"Stop that," he told me, catching me by the arm to halt my escape. "Stop saying shit like that."

"I think I'm starting to see this program clearly for the first time," I told him bitterly, ripping my arm free from his hold. "The box that Carlisle gave me tonight is just payment for services rendered, isn't it? That's my royalties from you boys: a premature thanks for letting you all have your wicked way with me."

"No."

"Perhaps you all feel that if you wave a couple grand in front of the poor girl's face she'd sell her morals and ethics to the highest bidder."

"It's not like that. Stop it!"

"Really?" I asked him, my voice firm and unwavering. "Then why do you feel like you can treat a woman the way that you have me, and still be allowed to fuck her?"

"I – I – I" he tried to reply, but his words seemed stuck in his throat.

"You say this program is not about taking advantage of women, then tell me why, Edward. Justify your actions."

"I can't" he admitted finally. "I'm sorry, Bella. I acted like a selfish pig and I'm sorry. I made you feel like that night at the party meant nothing to me, when in fact, it meant a lot to me."

"At the moment..." I retorted hotly.

"No, Bella," he told me quickly, taking a step closer to me and reaching his hand out to cradle my face in his palm. Part of me cringed at the contact, but the softer side of me – the one that wanted to trust that Edward was not the prick I'd met this morning – stopped my body from backing away from his gesture.

"It meant more to me than I can express, it seems. I don't ever want you to think that what you offer me is taken for granted. You deserve respect. You deserve to be cherished, and I didn't hold up on my side of the bargain."

I stared into his eyes for a moment, looking to gauge the sincerity of his words. I wanted to believe him; I wanted to trust him because I didn't think my heart could take the disappointment on top of feeling like it'd been utterly bruised tonight.

Channeling my father's skill at reading and assessing a person's veracity, I looked at Edward through the eyes of an observer, trying to discount my emotions and inner pleas to give him one more chance. Edward looked sincere and remorseful. He watched carefully, waiting patiently for my response. I studied his eyes and the way he watched me with not the eyes of a man wanting to have sex with me, but of a man who made a mistake and was asking for forgiveness. And in that moment I knew I'd give him just one more chance.

"Don't do it again," I told him plainly, leaving no room for argument. I allowed him to pull me into him, smiling softly as I felt him wrap his arms around me and place a small kiss on top of my head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into my hair, and my heart shed just one minuscule layer of ice I had around it at his soft apology. We stood like that for several minutes, long enough to have drawn the attention of the others residents in the house to our absence.

As we made our way slowly back to the house hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel like the small bubble I'd had around me had burst. I was delusional, I realized, in regards to my earlier assessment of the Cullens; it seemed there would be more to all this entire illustrious sex club stuff than I bargained for.

I didn't plan on my heart being hurt because I'd figure that this whole thing came with no strings attached. But in the end, it was silly of me to think I could check my emotions at the door, especially when the other Pledges here continued to make me feel less of woman than I was. Between Lauren and Edward's behavior, I couldn't help but think for just a moment that I'd bitten off more than I could chew when it came to the program.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Edward said as we approached the back door to the Mansion.

"Sure," I replied, giving him a soft smile to show my willingness to move on.

"Will you still consider me to be your first?" I took a step back, surprised by his question. Interpreting my action as the beginning of another confrontation, Edward hurried on to explain. "It's just that I want to make up for my earlier behavior. I need to show you what I think of you, and I don't want other people interfering with that."

"What happened to 'I will be your first, do you understand that? After moving day, you will be in my bed. Say it'? You sounded so sure of yourself then. Having doubts?" I smiled to let him know that I was kidding, and soon enough, the cocky as hell, fucking sex god was back and turning my panties into a mush.

"Don't worry, baby," he told me as his fingers traced the bare skin of my back, setting my body aflame. "I won't leave you doubting any part of me again."

* * *

**I want to personally thank all of you out there who have rec'd this story. I never thought it would be liked so much, but I'm glad to know that there are many pervy people out there just like me. And to those few who are not lurking but letting me know just how pervy you are every chapter, you all have a special place right in the soul of my heart!**

**I wrote a really important message on the blog & profile about the Fandom For Preemies. I know that you all have probably seen something similar to it thousands of times, but this fundraiser is different for me than the others. Thanks to all of you who've donated so far:**

**Loretta822**

**dkpatton**

**MarchHare5**

**hln3twimom**

**It's because of people like you that I get to actually use my love of writing and put it to do some good!**

**Recs:**

**Guardian by ChampagneAnyone**

**Parachute by KitsuShel**

**People Like Us by justginger**

**Sex, Distractions, and RocknRoll by vampheart (Twilighted only)**


	16. Chapter 15 The Invitation

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to CandyCanesfly & Neliz for their eyes and thoughts. Couldn't ask for a better group of friends to work with on this. **

* * *

Chapter 15 - The Invitation

It has comes down to this moment, to fuck or not to fuck...

I guessed that was the fucking question...

As I stood in my bedroom looking at both elegantly scripted envelopes with invitations for a night with a Consort, the enormity of what I was about to undertake came crushing down on me. My confrontation with Edward the night before had really opened my eyes to this place. I wasn't sure I liked the air of superiority a lot of these Consorts had about them; it just rubbed me the wrong way.

Last night I'd had a stark feeling like us women were being taken advantage of. Perhaps it was just brought on by the inferiority complex I seemed to be developing secondary to Lauren's snide glances and sneers of distaste, but I didn't think Edward's egotistical attitude helped at all.

There he was, standing smug and sure that I'd just open my legs for him at a flash of his sexy smirk, and it had set my teeth set on edge. Of course I realized that I was currently a resident of an elusive sex club, but I wasn't a whore... And I wasn't someone who cheapened sex as something as mundane as an easy lay. If that's what I wanted, I could go back home.

Sex...

Was that why I was really here?

Contemplating that question with two invitations in front of me to partake in some incredibly hot fucking by two gorgeous men seemed to be a bit ridiculous to me. I guessed the question was really futile at the moment; I was going to do it regardless of any argument I formulated in my mind in attempt to save my dwindling sense of propriety. That had disappeared the moment I'd decided that this utter bullshit was the most important thing in my life.

"So, are you just going to stare at them all damn day or are you going to open them?" Rosalie asked from behind me where she sat perched on my bed, awaiting my decision. She'd been pretty quiet up until that point, and I honestly had forgotten she was even there.

"I'm thinking," I told her, not bothering to turn around. I just kept up my vigil before the two envelopes, staring at them as if they'd spontaneously open, telling me which one to choose.

"How can you be thinking when you don't even know who the invitations are from?" Rosalie asked, annoyingly right in her assessment. I let out a large huff of air, not really knowing how to answer her question without divulging the internal battle that had been raging in my mind since my argument with Edward.

"I'm just...nervous," I told her. It was an honest response; probably the one she was expecting in any case. So what if I wasn't being one hundred percent honest with my Dame, the only person in this house I was requested to confide in. Pledges didn't get kicked out for keeping their inner monologues silent, did they?

"Having second thoughts?" Rosalie said with that freakish way she was able to get inside my brain. She had quickly deciphered through my little cues, interpreted them, and turned it around on me with the ease of a life-long friend. Perhaps it was because she learned how to read me so well while we'd been intimate, but only Alice had that ability in the past. It was a welcomed gift because I honestly didn't think I would have said anything to her without her prompting. Without meeting her gaze, I nodded my head in agreement.

"Don't do this to yourself, Bella," Rosalie admonished, and the fact that she was trying to make me sell-out my morality without a second thought on it made me laugh.

"How can I not have second thought?" I asked her, my expression humorless. "I mean, yeah this all sounded like a hell of a good time coming into it. But now that I literally have two invitations to fuck sitting in front of me, everything else is coming into question."

"But that's where you have to look at it differently, Bella," Rosalie said, standing from the bed and coming to stand beside me. "This is not about fucking or getting your rocks off. This is something totally different."

I looked at her stonily, my eyebrow raised in a flat expression of incredulity.

"It is," Rosalie defended. "I know you can't see that now because you haven't experienced it yet, but this is more about self-discovery than you can possibly imagine. You will learn things about yourself, not only sexually, but about your heart's most intimate desires, that will shape how you live the rest of your life."

I laughed. "You're telling me that these men have the power to make me see myself clearly?" I couldn't help the mocking tone in my voice.

"No, you smart ass," Rosalie retorted, smacking my shoulder lightly with her hand. "They do, however, have the power to make you see the heavens."

"Whatever," I laughed heartily. "I'm sure. Every man in this house is trained on how to make a woman cum on command?"

Rosalie just looked at me pointedly in answer, her expression giving me the impression that it was in fact a true statement.

_Really?_

Again, the conflicting arguments began clashing in my mind. To fuck or not to fuck...

"Just open them, Bella," Rosalie encouraged with a little nudge at my shoulder. I took a deep breath and peeled back the tab to the first envelope. Inside was a flat piece of stationary with short bold lettering in the middle.

_**Bella, **_

_**I meant what I told you when I first met you. Seductive clothing has its purpose. **_

_**I would love to show you exactly what I meant this weekend. **_

_**~ Jacob Black **_

I felt my breath catch in my throat as memories of the night I'd met Jacob came flooding back into my mind.

_"You're not comfortable in your costume, are you Betty?"_ he'd asked me as he looked at my nearly naked body, covered in thin scraps of white silk.

_"It wouldn't be my first choice..." _I'd answered honestly.

_"I'll tell you what I find sexy about this outfit," _he'd said, his voice deep and husky._ "I like the fact that if I wanted to, I could flip that cup down that's barely covering your breasts in a flash and have your nipple between my fingertips just as quickly. And that dress is so short, that if I wanted to, I could palm your bare ass, feel the soft skin bend to my ministrations. I could even give you an orgasm, right in the middle of the party, and I wouldn't even have to take your clothes off."_

Coming back to reality with a shuddered breath, I could feel my face heat against the memory of his words. At the time, they'd set my body aflame, both from incredulity and intense lust. It seemed Jacob remembered them too, making good on his promise to show me the benefits of a woman's scant attire.

Setting the invitation down on the desk where I'd found it, I picked up the second one, holding it precariously in my hand. I knew who this one was from. He'd made it pretty obvious that he wanted to have me first before any other Consort, so it was safe to assume that he'd submitted an invitation to me fairly early in the game.

It didn't change the fact that I was incredibly anxious holding the envelope, not knowing the actual content. Taking a deep breath, I opened the edge of the envelope pulling a similar sized card out of its depths.

_Bella ~ _

_There was a reason I asked to be your first. _

_You have something about you that I find incredibly intriguing. _

_You are mysterious, contradictory, stunningly beautiful..._

_And it would be my great pleasure to discover all your deepest desires._

_~ Edward Masen_

I wasn't quite sure what to make of his words because I didn't know when they were written. Had this been his thought process before or after our confrontation last night? If it was before, there were parts of his statement that made me somewhat pissy. 'My greatest pleasure to discover all your deepest desires' – really? How fucking cliche. It sounded like something one of those damn frat boys who'd pawned after me in college would say: nothing original, always aiming to plant their dick in something wet.

I read the letter again quickly, trying my hardest to let that chip on my shoulder not affect my interpretation so I could make an honest assessment. There was another part of it that had my interest piqued.

'You have something about you that I find incredibly intriguing...'

It didn't escape my notice that Edward had come to seek me out on more than one occasion. At first, I thought that it was something he'd done with the other Betties as well, that he was just a horny hound dog and I had just been lucky enough to be cornered in the bathroom. Charming...

But last night, I noticed how he seemed to ignore every other woman there, keeping his eyes fixed on me all throughout dinner. At first I thought that it was because he found me distasteful, sharing Lauren's opinion of me. But considering what happened later in the evening, his glances and outright perusing took a different meaning. And the moment I'd escaped to get some fresh air, who was the one to follow me outside? Edward Masen...

'You have something about you that I find incredibly intriguing...'

Maybe there was something more to him than just the ramblings of a typical frat boy.

"So, which one?" Rosalie asked, her tone calming in the eye of my internal storm.

"I'm not sure..."

"I think you're making this too hard on yourself, Bella," Rosalie replied with a laugh. "You can always choose one for this weekend, and the other for the next weekend. It's not that big of a deal."

"But what if the other one doesn't want to play next weekend?" I asked, concerned that whomever I say no to would consequently feel rejected, thereby feeling somewhat bitter about my choice.

"Don't worry about that, Bella," Rosalie chuckled, placing her small hand on my lower back in a comforting gesture. "We are all adults here. No one is going to be so petty or take any of this personally. If you felt more of a connection to one of those men, then go for it. This is the time to make your choices based on where your heart leads you."

"My heart?" I snorted. "Don't you mean my over-excited ovaries?"

Rosalie laughed. "Well, we'll see which one wins out in the end."

"Speaking of petty," I said with a sigh, setting down the envelopes and turning to face Rosalie's curious face. "Do you mind if I ask you about something? I need some advice."

"Sure," she shrugged, taking my hand and leading me back to my bed. We both sat down, and as we pushed ourselves back onto the plush headboard, I started having second thoughts about my decision to broach this topic with her. After all, it was my impression that the Dames were here to help us with our man issues, not with those trite little squabbles with the catty fellow Betties.

Sensing my hesitancy, Rosalie placed her palm on my thigh, bringing my attention back to her kind expression. "You can tell me anything, Bella. We're friends, and I want you to feel able to bring anything up to me that you need to vent about. Okay?"

I nodded, relieved that I'd found a friend who was so in tune with me. Maybe I should have slept with my girlfriends a long time ago, I mused.

"I think there are a couple girls here who don't seem to like me very much," I said in a small voice, hating that it made me seem vulnerable and insecure. I didn't want to be that way, but the truth of it was I'd always had a hard time dealing with how other women saw me. Call it my competitive nature, but I didn't like the fact that someone like Lauren could feel superior to me in anyway. It just rubbed me wrong.

"Anyone in particular?" Rosalie asked with that knowing tone of voice. I glanced at her, seeing her quirked smile and shining eyes. Her kissable lips...

_Focus, Bella..._

"Lauren, actually. She makes me feel like I don't belong here. And part of me agrees with her," I told her as I crossed my legs out in front of me, finding a small tear in my jeans that I felt incredibly interesting at that moment.

"Bella, look at me," Rosalie said, her voice warm and soothing. It was compelling, and despite my embarrassment at my admission, I met her eyes, thankful to see her understanding within them.

"Bella, there is no reason on this Earth you should feel less than worthy of being here," she told me. "I mean, this isn't the fucking Playboy mansion or even the White House. You are just as worthy of being here as anyone else, and I don't understand how you could feel you're not."

"You know why I feel that way, Rosalie," I said, not really wanting to bring up my financial status once again, but it was the crux of the issue. I knew that Lauren saw me differently. She may not know exactly how...lacking I was in that area, or how humble my beginnings were, but I knew she had an inkling. People of wealth had a way about them...how they carried themselves, how they dressed, and even their attitude differed from mine. I was in no way able to pull off that brand of demeanor, and I felt Lauren could see right through my charade.

"Listen, Bella, this program is not about financial status. Yes, the founders of the program decided way back when to include only those individuals of a certain affluence to protect their own status, but I promise you that this is way more than that."

"I know that," I told her. "It just seems like a prerequisite of being worthy to some people. And honestly, I don't give a fuck about what Lauren thinks of me, I'd just hate for there to be bad blood between me and another woman here, especially when feelings can get jumbled into the thick of it."

"Feelings?" Rosalie asked, her tone surprised at my choice of words.

"Come on, Rosalie. I'm not naive to the fact that some of you have fallen in love with one of the Consorts. And if that happens for me, I just don't want there to be any bitterness between me and another woman who may also fall just as hard. You know what I mean?"

"I do," Rosalie nodded. "But I'm more interested in the part where you said that you could potentially fall in love. I'm curious to see who my little Bella has her eye on."

"Oh, come on. You know I was just making a point," I told her, trying my hardest to keep my blush from shining through my blase exterior. I wasn't even close to having any kind of those feelings. Everything was still so new and exciting. I was just trying to make a point so she could see my concerns with Lauren.

"Whatever, Bella..." Rosalie laughed, looking at me with that damn probing eye of hers. "I'll get the truth out of you at some point."

"Believe me, if I fall for someone, you'll probably be one of the first to know," I told her with a huge smile. "Actually, I'll probably be at your doorstep crying about how he was fucking some other floozy right under my nose... under the same roof, no less."

I meant my comment to be a joke, but Rosalie stiffened just slightly, her smile not as genuine as before.

"Was it hard?" I asked her after a couple moments of silence, sensing her discomfort at my failed jest. "Seeing Emmett with other women?"

"I didn't actually see him," she said in a small voice, differing from her usual carefree nature I'd become accustomed to. I watched her as she tried to answer my question, witnessing how her eyes narrowed in thought; the edges of her mouth tightened as she began. "The Betties aren't allowed to watch playtime with Consorts and other women for just that reason. Any educational training is done by a mated pair."

"Still, it had to be hard knowing that he was with other women while he was with you."

"Yes and no," Rosalie said, sighing as she looked up at me. "Emmett and I have a very deep sexual relationship, and a huge part of that is because of our time at the Mansion. It was hard knowing he was with other people, some of them who became some of my dearest friends by the end of it all, but we both look at the time as our education and nothing more. There were no feelings of love or commitment involved. Yes, we both became close to the men and women we were involved with, but we only fell in love with each other, and since we both knew about what the other was doing, there wasn't any sense of betrayal between us. As a result, though, we both know exactly what pleases the other, and a part of that learning process was growing in an trial by error basis. I know it sounds funny, but I don't think we'd be as close as we are now without having gone through the program."

"When did you know?" I asked. "That you'd fallen in love with him?"

"The first time I saw him dance," she replied, smiling as she remembered. "We'd decided to go out to a club one night. At that point, I'd already held a very strong attraction toward him. I was accepting an invitation from him every weekend, and sometimes we'd sneak off to one of the pool houses on a weeknight. There was just this strong sexual magnetism about him that I couldn't ignore. But that night at the club, I knew it was something more than just lust."

"Was he a good dancer?" I asked, wishing I could relive the moment with her to understand how the mating process happened at the Mansion.

"No," Rosalie laughed. "He's awful. He has absolutely no rhythm, and he even does that white-man overbite that is ridiculously horrible. He reminded me of that scene in that Will Smith movie, where he tried to teach the fat guy to dance. It was exactly like that, except Emmett was way cuter and had a hot little ass he'd shake for emphasis."

I was in stitches of laughter at her description, being able to perfectly picture Emmett cutting rug at some club in the middle of Los Angeles. His size alone was almost a comical punchline, but add the awkwardness to the mix, I was in hysterics.

"And that made you fall for him?" I asked through a snort.

"Not quite," she replied, taking a deep breath to calm her own guffaws. "It was the reason he was out there in the first place. A person who's that bad of a dancer has to know how horrible they are, and Emmett knew he was no Justin Timberlake, but one of the girls had a thing about men rubbing their sweaty bodies on her at a club; she almost declined going because of it, but it was coming close to the end of the program, so we all talked her into it. Emmett danced with her despite his discomfort to keep the men away. He was so goofy that the both of them just laughed the entire night, making her less anxious and able to enjoy our time out. I'll never forget it..."

As she neared the end of her tale, her humor died off into a wistful expression filled with love and admiration for her mate. She looked so in love in that moment as she stared off into some unseen memory, and I wished for a brief second that I could someday find what she had. If that was to happen here at the program I would be all for it, but I didn't see it in the cards for me. There was already enough drama surrounding this place as it was, and I knew from experience that theatrics this early in the game never amounted to anything good in the end.

"So, tell me how the whole bisexual thing comes into play for you two." I'd wondered about it for a while now, ever since our night together while Emmett watched on. He didn't seem bothered by watching his woman please another girl at all, and I wondered how that situation came about in their relationship.

Rosalie chuckled as she answered. "Emmett and I share a secret fantasy in which you helped me play out, Bella. And I never did get to thank you for that. You see, I have been with women before, but never had a relationship with one. I've never had romantic feelings for one, I just like the way they feel under me. I guess you could say that I am attracted to a specific breed of woman, and not many of them fit my criteria."

"Well, I guess I should be flattered," I replied, flashing a shy smile toward her.

"You're very beautiful, Bella," she told me in a matter of fact tone. "But more than that, you are extremely sensual. It was hard not to be with you when I knew you wanted to try it."

"Alice told me that you were matched to me for a reason," I said, remembering Alice's statement at the costume party the week prior.

"Yes, I was," Rosalie smiled. "Not only because you are also bi-curious, but because Alice knew that we'd have a special bond with one another. I'm so glad to learn she was right."

"Me too," I told her honestly, returning her beaming smile. "So how does Emmett feel about you being with a woman? He didn't seem jealous at all."

Rosalie laughed, "No, he's not jealous. Matter of fact, he told me afterward that seeing us together was one of the most erotic things he'd ever witnessed, and coming from an alumni of this place, that's saying something."

"I bet," I replied. "But weren't you afraid that he'd want to be with the woman you were with... intimately, I mean?"

"No," Rosalie said confidently. "I'd expect him to be aroused by seeing another naked woman in such compromising positions, but I know that Emmett would never have a desire to have sex with another woman past a simple lustful notion."

"How can you be so confident?" I asked her, baffled by her blind faith in him.

"Simple, Bella... I trust him," she replied without pause.

"Wow," I said, truly surprised that she felt that way. I mean, I thought it was honorable to have a relationship that strong amongst so much sexual temptation, but I guessed that was part of what made their bond so strong.

"So, enough about me," Rosalie said suddenly, hoping off the bed after a quick pat on my leg. She took the few steps toward my desk to retrieve the envelopes I'd unceremoniously dropped on its surface. She held them up for my viewing, gesturing toward them like Vana White. "Which one will it be, Betty?"

I eyed them both carefully, debating on which decision process I should use to make my final choice... Without a second thought, I finally reached out to grab the one I wanted to try, knowing that from the beginning, he'd be the one.

"This one," I told her confidently. Rosalie took the envelope from me, pulling out the card to see who the lucky Consort would be. She glanced at me with a questioning expression, and seeing the hesitancy in her eyes, I nodded my head in confirmation.

"I'm sure," I told her. "I want it to be him."

"Okay," Rosalie said, setting both invites down on the desk once more. She grabbed me by the hands and pulled me up from the bed. "Time to make you uber sexy, my darling. You have a date with a mighty fine Consort."

* * *

**So for those of you who are disappointed, please know that there will be an EPIC lemon coming up next. Please send me your love...motivate me, people! I've been teasing you all this long so it's got to lead up so something pretty damn extrodinaory... Oh eyah!**

**Tomorrow is my birthday! For those of you who follow me on Twitter, be preparred for some drunken tweets at some point this weekend. I plan to be fully wasted and happy, ready to spread the Bowden love to you all. **

**For teaser info and some bonus dialogue from the Betty, follow BettyPledge on Twitter. **


	17. Chapter 16 The Seduction

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to CandyCanesfly & Neliz for making sure this was epic enough, as promised. And to Miss Suzie55 – thanks for being that one extra set of eyes ;)**

_This chapter is dedicated to Moose. I hope you get laid good and hard after this one…_

* * *

Chapter 16 – The Seduction

"Let him seduce you..."

Those were the words Rosalie had said to me when I left my room, dressed simply in a set of black lingerie and a silk rob. My makeup and hair were so overly done I looked like I was walking onto a set of some raunchy porno flick. Rosalie had spent the better part of two hours making sure I was presentable. I didn't understand it. I mean, I wasn't some plastic-filled Victoria Secret model. There was no reason I had to be poked and prodded to the point where my boobs were pressed up to my throat and my ass was rubbed with Crisco in order to make me glisten once things got going. When I asked her about all the prepping, she said that I had to look good in order to feel good. Something about feeling empowered. I guessed I understood, I'd just never taken that long to prep for sex in my life, so I didn't understand it until I left the comfort of my room.

Standing out in the hallway, my nerves suddenly congregated in my throat, leaving me breathless and desperate for some kind of direction. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Stand in the middle of the room and wait? Was I supposed to pose? Like some trophy wife in a porn, waiting for the pool boy to arrive? I mean, really. I had no idea what-so-ever. So when I turned back to Rosalie with a panicked expression on my face, she simply said what I needed to know.

"Let him seduce you..."

When she left me standing there alone, I finally began to understand where all the prep work came in. My eyes were smoky and laced with heavily painted lashes of the waterproof variety; my lips were stained in a dusky color of red that would withstand the most durable of fabrics against them. As a result, the sweat that was building under my lip and along my temples from anxiety couldn't possibly put a dent in the work Rosalie had done. Plus, it felt good knowing that I looked like a cemented pinup girl, ready and willing to please any Consort because it meant that I had the control. He'd be drooling, but I was the one who decided if we took the next step in that room, not him.

It was my decision, my choice...and I'd lead him to what end I felt comfortable with.

Empowered...yeah, that was how I felt as I strutted down the hallway toward the wing that housed the playrooms, my five-inch heels clicking softly on the marble floor below me. I was instructed to go to the last room at the end of the hallway. Standing outside the door, I was both nervous and incredibly excited. This was it: the point of no return. And just like it had happened before, the mind-games started up again, forming nagging questions inside my brain, filling with relentless doubt.

Had I made the right choice? How would my decision shape the rest of my time in the program?

Pushing all of the crap I couldn't control aside, deciding in that moment that it didn't matter any longer, I took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob. In the end, I was a confident, sexual, beautiful woman who knew what I wanted. I was going for it, and I'd take the bad that came along with the oh so very good.

I opened the door to a circular room, similarly shaped like a small castle turret. The walls were covered in antique-looking stone, covering the surface from floor to ceiling. On one side of the room was a large fireplace that expanded across a good size of the width, making the flames that roared inside it light the room in a subtle glow. Along the wall, niches were filled with the subtle glow of candlelight, as the long-burning wax slowly dribbled down the stone underneath.

A four poster bed that would probably dwarf my car dominated the right side of the turret. The bedding was dark in color and overflowing, matching the subtle mystery of the ambiance. Along the large oak pillars that encased the bed hung a thick draping of curtains that looked sheer in texture, but were bundled so tightly around the pillar I couldn't be sure. On top was a large canopy of fabric in the same color and texture as the curtain. It was beautiful, but seemed like it belonged in some medieval boudoir deep in Romania, not a modern-day mansion in the middle of Orange County.

It didn't escape my notice that the lingerie my Consort had picked for me to wear this evening matched the subtle brooding romance of the room, similar in both color and texture. I had to admit that I was hesitant at first when Rosalie told me that the entire evening, from location to my attire, was planned by the Consort. I mean, I was an independent woman who cherished my ability to choose. I didn't like the feeling of handing my control over to someone I hardly knew, especially when I was going to be as vulnerable as I was this evening. And it was with that stark reality in mind that I finally fully understood the importance of the rules when it came to my safety and security. There were people who knew where I was, cameras watching in case something happened. It was an environment I'd never have out in the public, with the same situation as I found myself in tonight: dressed in gorgeous Italian lingerie about to be seduced by a sensuously delicious male specimen.

Seduction…

It seemed so odd to me that this was going to actually take place. Had I been seduced before? In an almost laughable sense of the term, I guessed I had been. I mean, my prior sexual experiences were not something I'd say resulted from any effort the guy had made to win me over. In all actuality, the only reason I did end up spreading my legs was because I was fucking horny as hell, and they just happened to be present in my moment of dire need. The idea of being genuinely seduced by a man knowing that he had my pleasure utmost in his mind left me almost breathless. Talk about foreplay... When Rosalie had whispered those words to me before I left my room, I'd practically melted on the spot.

The term had taken on a different meaning entirely to me, and the whole essence of the program was starting to formulate in my mind, revealing a small part of the puzzle.

I walked into the center of the room, taking a moment to get a better feel of my surroundings. On one side of the wall I saw that there was a large framed mirror, and I assumed that it was one of the two-way glasses that guarded the Observation Deck on the other side.

Part of my mind wondered briefly if someone was watching me from the Deck, but I squashed the small amount of anxiety that notion had produced when I remembered Rosalie's other words to me earlier. "The Betties aren't allowed to watch playtime with Consorts and other women," she'd said to me. Maybe that didn't exactly mean that the other Consorts weren't watching, but I was comforted in the knowledge that my session today wasn't being observed as some kind of teaching moment for the other women. I was too worked up for that kind of pressure.

The room was quiet; only the subtle crackling of the fire serving as a slight cadence to the pounding in my heart could be heard. The delicate fragrance of the scented candles burning added a soothing touch to the atmosphere, filling my senses and adding to the mysterious essence the décor provided. Perhaps it was just that I needed time to relax, but the fact that there was no music in the background was comforting in a strange way. It allowed me to focus on the surroundings, take in my environment and let it soak into my pours without the suggestion of what was about to come when he stepped into the room. I was able to concentrate on the feeling of my body responding to the environment, feel the way my body moved beneath the Italian satin.

Slowly, I made my way toward the bed, pulling off my robe as I went. I loved the way the silk felt as it traveled down my arms, kissing along my skin until finally pooling at my wrists before it plummeted to the ground. The bra and panty set I was wearing was made of a similar fabric, and it hugged my body perfectly, leaving me both sensitive and secure at the same time. The black stockings I wore left my legs feeling long and elegant, while the length that stopped at my mid-thigh left just the right amount of skin bare to make it highly erotic.

As I approached the bed, I noticed that covering the surface of it was a large blanket that seemed to be made of a thick type of high-quality faux fur. The strands were full and inviting, and I took my time as I climbed onto the bed on all fours. I ran my fingers through the soft down, stretching out my body until I was laying on it fully, the silken fabric tickling along my belly and exposed skin.

The feeling of it against me was so sensual. Perhaps it was because my senses were already so heightened or because the anticipation of what was to come had almost left me desperate with need, but I couldn't help but to turn on my back, holding my arms out wide as I felt the soft fur smooth over me like warmed honey.

It was then that I saw a red satin ribbon hanging from the middle of the canopy above me with a small envelope attached to the end. Slowly I sat up, not taking my eyes away from the strange addition as I timidly reached out my hand and snatched the letter from the bow. I opened the unsealed envelope and pulled out a small card inside. Seeing the familiar elegant handwriting, a small smile curved my lips as I read my next instruction.

_It's a surprise to me that my desire to be with you has overwhelmed my thoughts completely. _

_With that in mind, what I share with you tonight should be kept between only me and you. _

_Pull the ribbon slowly…_

Curious, I set the paper gently on the bed. Rising up on my knees, I reached for the ribbon, pulling slowly as was instructed by my Consort. In a soft flow of movement, the canopy above me released, surrounding the entire bed in a non-transparent curtain of silk. I could see faint shadows from the outside caused by the light from the fire, but for the most part, I was completely hidden within the bed, giving me a sense of anticipatory excitement. I could feel my desire building as I sat there on the bed alone; knowing that in my seclusion, I only had mere minutes until my Consort arrived.

My heart was pounding furiously, my thighs and stomach muscles clenching in expectation as I sat there with wide eyes, looking around the bed to make out any shadow of movement.

"Do you always look so beautiful wearing next to nothing?" his voice asked from somewhere in the room, deep and sensual, making my heart race and my breath catch in my throat. It took me a moment to realize that based on his question, he had to have seen me while I was casing my surroundings; that was the only explanation that coincided with his choice of words.

There _was_ someone watching me from the Observation Deck; _he _was watching me…

"I wanted to look nice for you," I told him honestly, finding it oddly enthralling to be beneath the silk, away from his prying eyes. I was more honest with him, with myself, hidden away from his stark presence. It made me want to say things I wouldn't have dared to say to a man before, to admit what he did to me the night he touched me in the bathroom, how he seemed to make my very soul come alive with his disarming words and skilled fingers.

"Can I ask you a question?" His voice was a low rumble that had my insides melting.

"Yes," I whispered, fearing that I'd break the spell he had me under if I dared to speak any louder.

"What did you think about when you pleasured yourself on the day of your trial?" His voice was coming from a different area now, and it seemed he was circling the bed, for I could see the silhouette of his body move just beyond the curtain.

"Nothing," I told him honestly.

"Nothing?" he replied, mild surprise in his tone. "No erotic pictures or scenarios? No images of a muscled man ready to please you? Memories of a night spent underneath a well-skilled lover?

"No," I replied, my voice unsteady as his shadow came closer. "I-I-I just thought of how my body felt under my fingertips. How I could touch myself exactly how I needed in order to reach my peak."

"And no other person has been able to satisfy you that way? Read your body and how it responds, making sure to bring you to the edge?"

"No," I whispered, and the tone in my voice gave away how desperately I wanted that to change. "No one had been able to pleasure me the way I needed until I arrived here at the Mansion."

There were several beats of silence as I stared out toward the fabric that I'd felt protected by only a minute before; now it hid everything from me. I tried desperately to hear where he was, listening for falling footsteps or the sound of him breathing. The mystery kept me entranced, and I felt my body becoming flushed with a strong desire that came from an unknown origin. Perhaps it was from his pure essence, his words to me that fueled a heady sense of urgency between us. It was powerful and overwhelming, and I found myself desperate to hear his voice again.

"Lay down for me, Betty," he instructed, his voice soft but commanding. "I want you to show me how you like your body to be touched."

Slowly, I lowered myself on the bed, my heels digging into the soft fur of the blanket, leaving my silk-covered legs bent at the knee as my hair spilled out around me. I brought my hand up toward my body, hesitantly touching my exposed stomach. I swallowed thickly before my fingertips crept toward my lace covered breast, and my breath hitched when my other hand met my soaked panties.

"What do you think of now?"

I didn't respond; I couldn't. I could only watch as his shadow appeared right next to me, his silhouette so close I could reach it if I wasn't busy touching my overly heated skin.

"I know you touch yourself," he told me in a silken tone. "Just like you're doing now; someone as sensuous as you has to be very familiar with her body. I'm just curious to learn what you think of now."

"At f-first, when I'd arrived home after the party, I thought of the mystery…the enchantment of the night," I told him hesitantly, willing to see how far he wanted to take this little game of his as my fingertips edged below the lace of my panties. My body hummed to life, his words serving as a catalyst, making me aching with deep need. "I liked how I felt so alluring that night. I liked the way both the men and women watched me."

"_And later_…?" His voice seemed closer, more restrained, like it was taking some effort for him to stay where he was and not approach me to see what I was doing. I thrilled in that knowledge, my eyes closing tight against the sudden wave of desire coursing through me as my clit pulsed beneath my fingertips.

"I thought of Rosalie and how different it felt to have her breast between my lips. I'd never been with a woman before, and she felt so soft. It made me wet just to think of her below me." I heard a soft rustle of the sheet, felt the bed move slightly.

"And now?" he asked, his voice a deep seductive whisper in my ear. "What are you thinking of right now?"

"You," I told him simply, my hand working in slow tandem along my slick heat. "I'm thinking of the way you looked at me the night of the party."

"You saw me watching you?" he asked, his breath blowing across the round swells of my breasts, as if he was ghosting alone my skin, not daring to get to close. The thought made my back arch slightly in a desperate need to feel him touch me.

"Yes," I replied, my breath coming out in short pants as my blood boiled to a fever pitch, my body coming closer to the edge. "I saw you sitting there, watching the way I moved, wanting me from afar."

"What else?" he asked as the bed jostled, his voice coming from somewhere below me.

"I'm thinking about the way your fingers curled inside me," I said, mimicking my words, hating the fact that I couldn't get as deep as he did. I let a little frustrated moan escape as my teeth dug into my lower lip. It was then, just as I was reaching my high, that I finally discovered where he was. It was the touch of his breath on my thigh that clued me in, and knowing that he was that close to me, watching what I was doing to myself, sent me spiraling out of control.

"God, do you know how beautiful you are when you climax?" he asked me, his words sending my flame alight exponentially. "Your skin flushes and your breasts swell, Bella. I just want to keep you in this state, right here, for the next several hours."

He continued to whisper heady words to me, bringing me through the end of my orgasm with just his voice alone. When my breathing finally regulated to a somewhat normal level, I finally opened my eyes to see him kneeling at my feet, his eyes hooded as he watched me with the same intensity he did the night of the party.

He was beyond my most erotic wet dream: completely shirtless, exposing his toned and sculpted upper body. His dark pants were sitting low on his hips, exposing the hard planes of his abdomen and pelvis. And there was no possible way he was wearing anything under those pants, and the thought of him being encased by something that had only a mundane zipper to hold his magnificent bulge away from me had me salivating.

We didn't say anything to each other for several moments, both of us just staring at the other – I watched as his muscles tensed and his gaze darkened with unbridled lust; he saw me writhe on the bed, my fingers moving out from beneath my ruined underwear and up toward my poorly neglected breasts.

At this point all my inhibitions before had completely been forgotten. Edward had me teaming on the edge of oblivion, willing and able to forget everything other than the way his eyes burned into me with such intense need.

His voice was pure seduction. This room was sinfully romantic. My Dame told me he'd set out to seduce me, make me welcome the fact he wanted to devour me, and now I was almost desperate for it. Craving it like a mad woman.

This was it, the passion I was looking for. This was the type of man that I'd longed for subconsciously all these last lonely and desperate years, and he already had me wanting skip the formalities and foreplay.

I wanted his dick inside me right that minute.

And I could see no objection in Edward's heady gaze.

As I rose into a kneeling position in front of him, Edward reached out to grab my hips, forcefully pulling my body to lay flush with his. It took only a mere breath of time for our lips to meet, his tongue plunging into my mouth as my fingers made a desperate attempt to memorize the feel of skin. His body was firm yet soft, corded with muscle and sinew that was deliciously masculine. He was hard and strong, perfectly proportioned. I let my fingers travel through his silken hair as our lips and tongues tangled, feeling the smooth strands fall through my fingers. I felt his hands wrap around my back, one hand traveling down the shapely curve of my spine, the other seeking upwards toward my neck, pulling my face closer to his.

The way he touched me was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It was soft yet sure, strong yet gentle, passionate yet reverent.

"Beautiful," he whispered against my mouth, his lips traveling to my jaw and down my neck as he continued to whisper sweet words to me. Worshiping, passionate words that mirrored the way he was touching on an almost affectionate level. His fingers felt every inch of my skin that was exposed, seeming to examine my comfort level, never pushing me further than I was willing to go.

He didn't understand. I was desperate for him…

All the built up tension, the sexual frustration over the last week —no, the last twenty four years of my fucking life — were wrapped up into this moment. Edward needed to show me exactly what being a Consort of the elusive Cullens meant, and he needed to do it right fucking now.

His seduction had pushed me over the edge… I didn't want slow and gentle, romantic or respectful. I wanted him hard and fast, and in that very moment.

"Edward, take me," I told him unabashedly, not caring about the plea in my tone. "Show me…"

"Yes, my Betty," he whispered against my shoulder, his fingers traveling to the back of my silken confinement that entrapped my swollen, needy breasts. With a quick motion, he unleashed the clasp on my bra, leaving me bare and available for his exploration. Edward didn't spare one second on formality; his lips fastened around my aching nipple, encircling it with his tongue. He let out a hoarse moan, like a man who'd been parched, only now allowed to drink. My back arched into him, desperate to get as close as possible, presenting myself to him in a silent offering.

"God, do you know how good you feel?" he asked. I moaned in response, fighting both the need to revel in the sensations his mouth was inducing and the desire to release him from his clothing. The decision was made for me when he slowly laid me down on the bed, his mouth never leaving my chest as he did.

I lifted my hips instinctively off the mattress and the hand that wasn't cupping my breast reached for my lacy panties, pulling them down my legs in an agonizingly slow pace. Wanting things to progress much faster, I reached down toward his jeans as his lips traveled down my sternum toward my stomach. I unzipped his jeans, unlatching the button as my feet came up to the sides of his legs, assisting the effort I was making to get the damn things off of him.

I heard Edward let out a small chuckle against my heated skin.

"In a hurry?" he asked, snaking his tongue out to trace around my navel.

"Get these off, now!" I growled, surprised at the tone of my response. It seemed Edward was bringing a side out of me that I'd never experienced before. It was almost animalistic, frenetic, and unhinged. When he wanted to go slowly, taking his time trying to show me whatever the hell he had in his pea-sized brain, I wanted him desperately. And I didn't care if I came off like a complete whore as a loud moan, bordering on the edge of a cry, ripped from my mouth the moment my hands fisted around his impressive, hardened length.

I knew he wasn't wearing underwear…

"Oh God, Bella, slow down, baby," he said in stunted words, his breath blowing across my abdomen as I stroked him.

"No," I told him as I fisted him tightly againg, taking the pad of my thumb and spreading his precum along his head. "I want you…"

"Bella, this is about you…" he said, trying to persuade me. Perhaps he was trying to convince himself to keep from taking me roughly like I was demanding, but I didn't like his stalling tactics one bit.

"I'm ready," I told him.

"No," he tried to argue. Frustrated, I took my hand off his cock and reached for my own soaking core. I touched my dripping entrance, coating my fingertips with my desire, then encased his length once more, using my own need as a lubricant.

"I'm ready," I told him firmly, the grasp I had on him matching my desperate need. He let out a shaky moan, something on the verge of pain as he felt what I did.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" he asked rhetorically, his voice low and gravely with need. "God, Bella. You don't need to be here, do you know that?"

"Shut the fuck up and take me," I told him bluntly, and I screamed as I felt his teeth dig into my shoulder at the same time I felt his length plunge into me, my body sheathing him to the hilt.

We both let out a cry as we connected, my body arching off the bed instinctively. Edward wrapped his arm through the space my rounded spine caused between me and the bed, keeping my body turned upward toward him like a sacrifice. He used his hold on me as some kind of anchor, pushing into me with both his hips and his arms as he slammed my body down on his waiting groin.

My breasts were displayed openly to him as he plowed into me, hitting depths within me that I'd never experienced before. His lips surrounded my aching peak, pulling my nipple into his mouth with such torturing force, it had me growling freely.

"You wanted me like this?" he asked through stunted pants. "Fucking you into oblivion?"

"Yes," I said, not ashamed at my admission.

"Have you ever been fucked before, Betty?" he asked, his arm around the small of my back gripping me tighter. He was getting closer; I could tell he was at his peak.

"No," I told him. And I hadn't; not like this. He was making me see the heavens, just like Rosalie had predicted.

He sat back on his haunches, using his strength to pull my hips toward his so that my backside was resting on his thighs. With one, hand he grasped my waist, using them as leverage to pull my body to meet his thrusting hips. His other hand traveled to where we were connected, using the pad of his thumb to stroke my clit feverishly.

I was writhing below him as an inferno roared to life inside me. I was panting with a burning throb deep within me, something I'd never felt before. But as it bellowed to the surface, alighting every inch of my skin aflame, I knew it was an orgasm more powerful than I'd ever felt.

"Yes, Bella," I heard Edward say roughly, his hips surging forward at a rapid rate. My thighs clamped around him, my eyes closed tightly, my slick walls encased him as my orgasm ripped through me. It felt like nothing I'd experienced before, and all I could manage to think in my mind was how much I was going to enjoy the rest of this program if this was what I had to endure.

First, I had to survive this round…

* * *

**Now I know you all are just burning to leave me a hot little review after that, right? I mean, come on... I gave you who you all wanted AND did it before Christmas. **

**I'm getting so damn close to breaking 1k reviews for this little nugget. Push me closer, will ya? I so close. Do it! Now!**

**Right there... So close... **

**Yes! **

**Yes! **

**Yes!...**

***wipes brow* **

**Recs: **

**The Tour by Wutheringbites**

**Riding the Fence by morethanmyself**

**And check out the o/s I wrote. Italian Edward...need I say more?**


	18. Chapter 17 The Claiming

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to CandyCanesfly & Neliz for being two of the biggest supporters of Betty and all her maddness. **

Chapter 17 – The Claiming

I fucked her.

There was no nice way to put it. No smooth way that I could interpret what we'd done. From every angle I'd looked at that night, I didn't think I could ever see it as anything more than pure, carnal, animalistic fucking.

And it wasn't what I'd expected.

Did I intend to go in there and cause her body to melt beneath me? Show her all the ways I could make her toes curl without even penetrating her?

Yeah, I did. I wanted to savor her, devour her...

Of course, I'd given her insurmountable pleasure, just not in the way I wanted it to come about. I'd made her cum and cum hard, but was I slightly disappointed in the fact that she wanted me to fuck her?

Yeah…I fucking was.

And I didn't understand why I was so disappointed about how our first joining went. I mean, I could see just how damned horny she was over the last couple of days. Her need practically clung to her like a second skin. That was the only reason I'd followed her outside on the night of the dinner. I'd convinced myself that it would be a disservice to leave her feeling so achy and deprived; of course, there was also my own desire for her, nagging at me constantly.

But like she'd done so many times up until this point, she'd surprised me. It seemed that she didn't appreciate my attempts to get her to break the rules. I knew she wanted it, but I think she felt that I was trying to disrespect her in some way. That wasn't my intent; the exact opposite was true, in fact. I knew how most of the women pledges felt at this point: aroused, intrigued, their senses heightened to the point of explosion.

Sometimes I wondered if the program was designed to amp up the sexual tension so much so that any inhibitions the pledges may have were completely disregarded in favor of sating their desperate need to get laid. It was an interesting theory, one I'd decided to ask my uncle Carlisle about.

In the mean time, I was distracted with the fact that after Bella's plea for me to fuck her, she hadn't wanted to take things slower.

No.

After the first round, it was her turn to fuck me.

"Mmmm, that was perfect," she moaned against my neck; my body had fallen on top of hers in a sweaty heap. She didn't seem to mind the fact that I was practically crushing her petite little frame.

God, her body...

I'd stood inside the Observation Deck watching her approach my carefully constructed den of seduction, staring at her form as she moved inside the room. When she took off that bare scrap of fabric that was her robe, I melted…or hardened further, as the case may be.

I'd never seen a woman so sensuously oblivious to the absolute goddess she was. Her ignorance made her even that much more appealing, adding an innocent quality to her demeanor, even though she was anything but. The erotic way her curves hugged the fine silk put Venus herself to shame. She was the type of beauty who'd make Adonis claim a life of monogamy, if only she'd promise to be in his bed every night waiting for him...ready for him.

But it was my bed she'd writhed in, my invitation she'd accepted, and now she was under me, nearly lethargic after our heated session.

"I'm pleased to have satisfied you, my Betty," I told her honestly. It was the truth and then some.

She laughed. "Spoken like a true Consort," she told me through a chuckle, the motions making her body move against me in interesting ways.

"Spoken like a man enamored," I corrected, pulling back slightly so I could see her more fully.

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls," she replied, and a part of me hated the fact that she had to bring it up: the other girls.

"Just you," I told her, but it seemed she thought I was joking.

"You don't need to flatter me, you know. I'm an easy bet." She moved her hand to my lower back, slowly creeping down to my ass. "God, I love the way you feel between my legs." She pushed me deeper inside her for emphasis. My length began to harden once again, and I knew it would be only mere moments more before I would be ready to take her thoroughly, especially if she kept talking to me the way she was.

This time, I hoped to cherish her.

But it seemed she had other plans…

Faster than I could formulate a response, Bella pushed on my shoulders roughly. I landed heavily on my back, her legs straddling me without dislodging my heavy erection from her slick sheath. It was a shocking talent, one that I was surprised she'd mastered considering that she was in a sexual training program. I guessed it was my own ignorance to think she was inexperienced; just another way her innocent demeanor was misleading.

I was being honest with her when I told her that I didn't think she needed to be here. Part of my job — no, my privilege — was to help her discover her sexual desires, needs, and preferences. She'd get training later on the various flavors of sexual exploration, but in our time together, I hoped to show her exactly what her body craved, and teach her how to ask for it both verbally and physically.

It seemed she didn't need my help. That woman knew exactly what she wanted.

I was about to comment as such when I felt her tiny hands start to explore the plains of my chest, kneading and soothing the tight muscles into mush.

I watched her as her eyes ventured over the expanse of my body, seeming to memorize every curve and valley. It was a strangely erotic experience to be on display for this woman; usually I was the one worshipping a supple body with my heady gaze. To have the tables flipped for a change was foreign to me, but it also left me feeling on edge, wanting to know if she found me lacking.

I was quiet as she roamed my body with her tiny hands, the pads of her fingers felt like small feathers ghosting across my skin. The sensations were in two ways enticing — leaving me in that place where her movements felt nice, but on the verge of being too much to handle. Her touch made me want more, and each muscle clenched where she touched in a desperate plea.

"How many women have touched your body like this?" she asked in an almost rhetorical tone. "How many have told you how sinfully delicious you are?"

"How many men have told you?" I asked evasively, not wanting to talk about any other woman but the gorgeous creature above me.

She laughed at my question. "Not enough," she answered. "Most of them have been too busy concentrating on their own needs to pay any attention to me."

"How is that even possible?" I asked, stunned that any man who had the privilege of lying with her wouldn't show her exactly how truly magnificent she was.

She shrugged candidly, "Guess those few fucktards weren't worth it, were they?"

"Not worthy of you by any means," I told her honestly, but I could see the horrible truth in her eyes. She didn't think she was worth the time it took for a man to show her homage. She thought that sex with a man was about satisfying their needs before her own. Perhaps that was the reason why she was here: to find out if there was any truth to her poorly constructed theory.

"Can you prove that to me?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow, looking at me daringly in the face: a challenge.

"And then some," I told her, my confident smirk present in full force.

"Mmmmm, but it seems that you are trapped beneath me," she said, tracing her tiny finger down the center of my abdomen, barely grazing the rounded muscles on either side of the valley until she reached the juncture where we were joined. "Guess I'll have to show you what it means to be with a woman like me. Maybe it can be your turn next time, yes?"

With that, she raised up a little, feeling my hard as a rock shaft with her fingertips, judging to see if I was ready for round two. God was I ever. I had been ever since she placed herself on top of me.

It seemed she was satisfied with what she found, for she lowered herself down on me, setting a tortuously fast rhythm. Her breasts slightly bounced as she moved, her narrow waist contracted as her velvet walls encased firmly around me.

I groaned as my hands instinctively made their way to her rounded hips, assisting her movements in any way I could. She placed her palms on my firm stomach, using the position as leverage to she could move faster.

"God, Bella," I moaned, watching intently as her glorious form moved sensuously above me. My hands roamed around to her supple bottom, cupping it firmly and kneading her flesh. From there, I assisted the bounce of her body, loving the way it felt as her ass hit the tops of my thighs with each move.

I could see a slight sheen of sweat covering her glorious chest, her eyes closed in concentration. The look on her face was intense, distant. For some reason it made her seem disconnected from me, like she was in her own little world, focusing on reaching her peak by herself.

Was this how she looked under those covers of her trial? Was she focusing on bringing herself there, using me only as a means to an end?

Fuck. That. Shit.

I wanted her here, in this with me. I wanted to feel her connect to me; experience what it meant to be with a master of the art of seduction and intimacy. What she was doing was just sex — a means to an end. I wanted her to feel that intense link with me, know that I was in it with her and wanted to feel every way I could make her body sing.

Bracing her on the curve of her lower back, I sat up abruptly, scooting back so that I was leaning against the headboard. Bella's eyes popped open, then widened as she took in my precarious repositioning. My intention was not to take the control away from her; if she wanted to fuck me, to have that sense of power, then I was more than happy to oblige her. I just wanted her to connect with me and not disappear into herself, allowing her be the catalyst of her own climax.

That was my fucking job, and I'd do it thoroughly.

"Lean back," I told her, my voice husky with lust. I bent my knees behind her, using them as a cushion she could prop her body against, displaying more of her delicious form for my perusal. Her hands moved behind her, clawing into my thighs as she raised herself up once more, slamming down onto me. The new angle allowed her deeper penetration, and we both moaned as her movements became more forceful.

My hands travelled along her body as she arched against my legs, presenting her glorious chest closer to my salivating mouth. With steady moves, my palms cupped her breasts; my head bending to taste. She gasped as my tongue encircled her swollen peak: teasing, licking, devouring…

Once one supple mound was wet with my attention, I moved to other most neglected, aching breast: encasing, sucking…claiming.

The whole time she moved above me; every moment of it she moaned at my ministrations. There was no way she was in this alone. I was the one to bring her to the end.

I'd make sure of it…

Her motions were becoming more desperate, like she was trying to get me to hit a certain spot. This was when I'd show her the difference between an experienced lover and one who was ignorant to a woman's needs. This was when I would claim her, convert her, and challenge every rationale she had about sex.

I knew where she wanted me, knew what her body was trying to achieve instinctively.

Slowly, I lowered my legs behind her, causing her palms to rest on the mattress below. The new position angled her body deeper onto me, and when the head of my penis hit that spot deep within her, she threw her head back and let out a deep cry of pleasure.

"Yes," I told her, my hips lifted up from the bed to meet her downward thrusts. "Right there."

"Oh god," she proclaimed, the vast expanse of her neck and chest open and ready for the taking. I wrapped one arm around the curve of her lower back, using my upper body strength to hold myself deep inside her. The other I used to tease the place where we were connected, feeling myself disappear inside her. She was so damn wet, and I couldn't help the shudder that ran through me at the feeling of her dampening my fingertips as she moved.

As my head bent to taste her skin once more, I moved the pad of my thumb to her swollen clit. I knew this would bring her to completion, knew that it would be her undoing, but I didn't care. I needed to feel her clamp down on me, to know that I was the one who brought this beautiful woman the bliss that she so completely deserved. The combination of my shaft deep inside her, my thumb pressing on her pulsing bundle, and the warmth of my mouth surrounding her supple breast, she exploded above me.

With an aching moan bordering on a cry of pain, she went soaring over the edge: shuddering, tensing…releasing.

The feeling of her coming to pieces around me sent me over as well, and my whole body tensed as I jutted inside of her, spilling deep, groaning hard.

It took us a while to gain any kind of normalcy after that kind of intense sharing. I placed her softly beside me, her body limp and going through little aftershocks of pleasure as she moved. I could tell that she was incredibly sensitive — every nerve ending on alert — and if it wasn't for the fact that she'd made me cum so hard, unlike anything I'd experienced before, I might have felt a little smug about her reaction. But as it were, I was just as physically spent as she was.

She fell asleep next to me a short while later, not even uttering a word before she went into slumber. I watched her carefully for few a moments, trying to see past her meek exterior to the seductive, sensuous woman she was only moments prior. She looked so serene, resembling a porcelain doll: the ideal of perfection. Her lips were pouty, her expression peaceful. She still looked so innocent to me that it was hard to wrap my mind around the variance.

I hoped that with time, I'd be able to work out the puzzle that was Bella Swan.

I woke sometime later to an empty bed. The fire was nothing but gentle ambers in the pit; the candles were burnt to a low flame. I pulled myself from the bed, looking around in confusion for just a moment. Bella's side of the bed was cool, her discarded clothing was gone.

She must have left sometime in the night.

Running my palm over my face, I let out a deep sigh. Without further preamble, I rose from the bed and redressed. Luckily no one was in the halls as I made my way to my bedroom. I paused slightly outside of Bella's room, my hand itching to knock. I just wanted to make sure she was alright. We hadn't really spoken about anything, and I wanted to make sure she was feeling okay with what had happened. It was her first session, after all.

Her first session…

First, implying more to follow.

But with whom?

I pushed those thoughts away, not wanting to add more emotion to the Cullen fuckery. I'd let that happen once; I would not let it happen again.

Like an iron gate of pure will, I shut down any notion or inkling of feeling, and turned toward my room, not even daring to look back.

I didn't think about it as I showered, didn't address it as I changed. My mind was a complete blank as I made my way down to the kitchen, pulling a mug from the cupboard, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

"Rough night?" I heard a voice say. Of course, the one fucker I didn't want to see.

"You could say that," I answered generally, not giving away anything to his pervy, fucking nosey as hell mind.

"Come on, bro," Emmett replied, sitting his overtly large ass down on the counter beside me. "You gotta give me more than that. I'm living vicariously through you now. Reliving the glory days as a Consort through my baby bro!"

I glared at him. "Oh, really? It didn't look that way the other day. Seems you get to keep Rose and have fun with other women."

I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, I really did. I didn't want there to be an issue with what I'd witnessed the other day, but the fact of the matter was, seeing my brother with Bella did bother me. Even if he never touched her, it was still unsettling. I just wasn't one to admit it to anyone, let alone to myself.

It was her…_she_ was the one making me feel this way.

_Damn it!_

"It's her, then…" Emmett said, implying way too damn much in his tone.

"Shut the fuck up," I growled, turning from him to grab some cereal from the pantry.

"Dude, I'm sorry. If I would have known, I —"

"It's nothing," I lied. "It's not like that."

"Edward, don't do that to yourself. If you feel something, then you need to address it."

"I don't feel anything," I replied indignantly, hating the way my voice sounded so hard saying it. Emotionless…blunt.

There was silence for several minutes, and I could tell my brother was watching me as I poured milk into my bowl, grabbing a spoon from the drawer, and shoveling it into my mouth without a word.

"You know she's going to be with other men." He said it without inflection. A statement and warning in one.

"I know…" I replied, swallowing thickly on the barely chewed flakes, causing a burn in my throat as they went down uncomfortably.

"It's not easy," Emmett continued, giving me his unsolicited, brotherly bullshit advice. Part of me wanted to hear it, the other half fought against it, hating all it implied. "But it's important to let them figure their crap out first. Trust me, bro. It sucks, but at the same time, it's needed."

"This is so fucked up," I replied, setting my bowl down and running my fingers through my hair in exasperation. I wasn't sure what I was referring to: the fact that Bella was going to be with other men or the knowledge that it bothered me so damn much.

"Yeah," Emmett responded, patting me on the shoulder as he hopped down from his perch, heading toward the exit. "The joys of being a fucking Cullen."

"Yeah," I replied, staring unseeingly toward his retreating form. "The joys…"

**Thanks to Misti92482 for being the 1,000****th**** review! I am so honored to have such dedicated readers to this madness. **

**I'm anxious to hear what you all are thinking after Edward's chapter. Let me hear it!**

**The blog has been updated as well as the Observation Deck. Check it out! Follow BettyPledge for the occasional tease, and me emilybowdn for the occasional drunk tweet. **

**Rec: ****Unloved Unwanted Divergence**** by content1 ~ I have not pimped out a story like this in a long ass time. This is a must read. I do not know how she does not have more reviews, honestly. It's an all vampire but one of the best ones I've read. Tell her I sent you over!**


	19. Chapter 18 The Dominatrix

**The Twilight Series character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization, 2010 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**HUGE thanks to AJsilentvoice on this one. I was sweating bullets over it. Also, to Neliz and Candycanesfly…thanks for sticking with me through all the snot, colds, flus, pneumonias, sinus infections… I don't know about the rest of the country, but Cali is brewing some shit awful bugs lately, and I seemed to have contracted them all over the last month and a half. **

**

* * *

**

Chapter 18 – The Dominatrix

~ Bella Pledge ~

"And then what happened?"

Alice was bouncing around my room, making me incredibly dizzy with the flurry of her movements. I was watching her from my bed, my eyes half blurry from sleep. I had been awoken only moments prior by two of the most adorably obnoxious women I'd ever met, both eager to get the deets on my night with my Consort.

"How much coffee has she had this morning?" I asked Rosalie, covertly leaning over toward her as she sat on my bed, watching Alice act like she had some form of highly compulsive Tourette's.

"Well, you would know if you came down to breakfast," Rosalie replied, giving me a snarky look as she took in my disheveled state.

"I had a long night," I replied defensively, pulling up the covers over my barely covered breasts.

"I see that," she replied, staring pointedly at the clock glaring next to my bed. I followed her gaze. Eleven am: hardly anything to write to the Journal about…

"Will you two stop talking about me and answer my damn question," Alice growled, rounding on the pair of us with one of my throw pillows, landing several small swipes to my covered legs.

"Okay, okay…" I said hurriedly. "Calm down. Where was I?"

"Somewhere between 'Unf' and 'Oh yes, right there'," Rosalie replied sarcastically.

"Shaddup," I growled, nudging her with my shoulder for emphasis.

"So, he made you cum, and then what happened?" Alice asked, taking a seat on the edge of my bed like what I was about to divulge would make the earth shatter.

"What else matters?" Rosalie replied, earning both a growl and a pillow toss from Alice and me.

"Well, we fell asleep…" Both eyes stared at me, wide in confusion.

"You guys fell asleep…in a playroom?" Alice asked, incredulous.

"Yeeeaah," I replied slowly, wondering why they were both acting so off this morning.

"Wow," Rosalie said, looking a little taken aback.

"What's the big deal?" I asked. "I mean, is that not allowed? If it's not, I didn't know. It wasn't like Edward tried to wake me or anything, and technically, isn't your job to tell me about those kinds of rules?" I pointed an accusing finger in Rosalie's grinning face.

"No, there's no rule stating you can't sleep in a playroom," Rosalie chuckled. "Em and I used to do it all the time. I'm just surprised is all..."

"Why is that surprising to you?"

"Well, I've never known Edward to let his guard down so much as to leave himself so vulnerable. Sleeping in a playroom has a ring of intimacy to it," Rosalie replied, shrugging her shoulders like what she said was obvious. I glanced over to see Alice nodding her head in agreement.

"I guess…he was just tired…then," I replied, not really knowing how to respond to their observation.

"Awe, isn't it sweet?" Alice crooned. "Bella fucked Eddie into a coma."

"Oh god…" I replied, placing my head in my hands in hopes to hold off the raging headache that threatened to overtake me.

"Come on, Alice," Rosalie chuckled, and I could feel the bed beneath me shift as she stood up, grabbing the bouncing pixie by the arm. "Let's give Bella a moment to decompress before she goes postal on us."

"But I wanna talk to my best friend," Alice whined, and it took my appealing expression through my fingers and another tug from Rosalie to get the hyper little thing moving at all. "Fine. But after your lesson today, I want your full attention for at least an hour, deal?"

"Lesson?" I asked, my hands falling to my lap as I looked at my Dame questioningly.

"Yes," Rosalie replied as she continued to head slowly toward the door, toting a reluctant Alice behind her. "The first of many. Be in the Observation Deck on the east side of the building at one o'clock. Don't be late."

"What can I expect?" I asked as she opened the door, pushing Alice into the hallway ahead her.

"Expect to be shocked and highly aroused," Alice replied, poking her head back into my room with a lewd smile on her face, wagging her eyebrows in mirth.

"Shush," Rosalie admonished, pulling my best friend back into the hallway as Alice laughed joyously. My Dame studied me carefully before she came back into my room, shutting the door tightly behind her. "Listen, Bella. In this program, the Cullens will introduce various sexual lifestyles to you. Some you may not be comfortable with, some that may interest you. It's about discovering your sexual desires, finding that place where you feel the most enjoyment and passion."

"That's why I'm here," I replied honestly.

"I know," Rosalie agreed, taking a moment to collect her thoughts before she continued. "Just don't feel like you have to participate in anything. Every decision is up to you, from the invitations you accept down to what you do with your free time. If you are in the Deck and you see something that bothers you, you can leave. Promise me that you will."

"I promise, Rosalie," I told her reassuringly, wondering why she was suddenly taking a somber tone.

"This is a completely consensual establishment," she emphasized for probably the hundredth time. "Even if you are knee-deep in a scene with someone and you want out, all you have to do is use your safeword."

"Rosalie, I won't do anything I don't feel comfortable with. Don't worry about me."

She looked at me for a moment, probably studying my expression, seeing if she could decipher any doubt or apprehension. I didn't know how to make her realize the amount of times I'd reevaluated my decision for coming to the Mansion in the first place. It was something I'd obsessed over constantly since the moment I'd contemplated filling out an application all the way up to the moment I sat on that fur-covered bed. But after last night, I knew I was all in. There were no longer any doubts about my being here. This is what I wanted…what I needed to do. And I didn't want her to worry about me needlessly.

Rosalie took a tentative step closer to me, taking a seat on the foot of my bed.

"Are you okay, Bella," she asked, looking at me in concern. I smiled at her and nodded my head, trying to reassure her without words. "You just seem different. More, I don't know," she shrugged, "confident, I guess."

I laughed. "I don't think confident is the word I'd choose."

"But you do," Rosalie chuckled. "I mean, look at you. All sexed up in nothing but your undies. Must have been a great night. You look really good, by the way."

I blushed, realizing that I'd let the sheets fall into my lap, revealing the black lingerie that Edward had asked me to wear the previous night.

"Thanks," I told her, all of a sudden feeling really weird about her compliment because I didn't know if she was saying it as one of my best girlfriends, or in a former-lover-type innuendo. I loved being with Rosalie, but I didn't think I'd be playing like that again any time soon, especially after my night with one of the Cullen Consorts.

Rosalie seemed to sense my conflict, giving me a sly glance before she looked down toward the comforter, not seeming to want to push her comment any further.

"I noticed you said that you fell asleep next to Edward," she began again, speaking toward the bed rather than meeting my eyes, giving me a couple moments to compose my wayward thoughts. "Yet we found you here in your room this morning. Care to explain?"

"Not really much to tell," I told her. "I woke up in the middle of the night and decided to come back to my room. End of story."

"I see," she said, her tone too contemplative for my liking.

"What?"

"Well, why did you leave? I mean, you could've just stayed with him. It seemed you were comfortable enough with him to fall asleep in the first place."

"I was…" I trailed off, not really knowing how to explain the chaotic thoughts that had bombarded my mind at finding myself in that predicament. The truth was I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep in his arms. After our time together, I'd been so incredibly…relaxed…so much so that I didn't think I could've made it down the hall and into my room if I'd wanted to. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, it just happened.

It was surprising that I ended up in Edward's arms, he was just as relaxed and content as I had been in my slumber. I sat there and watched him sleep for a moment, contemplating what the protocol was for Betties and Consorts in this position.

Was I supposed to stay with him? Or was the invitation only extended through the evening? Should I leave, or should I remain with him, comfortable and protected in his embrace for another couple of hours?

Despite my hardened exterior about sex and men, I had to admit that Edward was unlike anyone I'd ever been with before. Granted, my past experience with men hadn't been anything to light fireworks over.

Honestly, I'd never had a genuine orgasm with someone during sex until I was with Rosalie for that brief moment. At first, I thought it was because my interest in being with a woman was more than just a passing thing; maybe I was more than bi-curious.

But, looking back on it now, I think it was Rosalie's attentiveness that'd made me feel so connected to her. She took time to focus on my pleasure, seeing how my body responded and kept that at the front of her mind the entire time we were together.

And in turn, when it was my turn to pleasure her, I did the same thing. I watched her body intently, seeing the way her skin heated under my touch, how her breath quicken when I'd caress her a certain way.

It had been my experience with men that they just didn't do that. They didn't take the time and focus away from themselves long enough to pleasure the person they were with, to make sure their partner got off just as well as they did. Perhaps it was a little presumptuous of me, but what I knew of sex, I knew it to be a two-way street: not only one gets to ride the golden pony, as it were.

That was my summary of men, until I was with Edward.

Every single moment in that room was about me. From beginning to end, he'd made me feel beautiful, wanted, erotically sensuous, but at the same time he made me feel safe and secure. He took my hints and went with them, never pushing me or over-stepping my boundaries, as loose and frail as they may have been.

His entire concentration was on me and my pleasure, and it was an experience I wouldn't soon forget.

That night was so much more than sex to me. It awoke something deep inside me that I was afraid I'd never find. The passion I'd read about in countless romance novels that seemed like some kind of forbidden, hopeless fantasy. I knew it existed, but had never been close to it. It was like this unattainable thing reserved only for soul mates and porn stars.

And neither of those options seemed likely for me in this lifetime…one definitely less than the other.

After last night with Edward, I could understand how it would be hard for some of these women not to fall head over heels. Not into love, per say, but definitely into an all-consuming lust. If that kind of passion could exist between any two people, a woman and a variable average Joe, than I can understand why there were so many scantless bitches in the world.

"Bella?" Rosalie said, pulling me back into the here and now. She'd move from the foot of my bed to sit next to me, looking at me with a concerned expression.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head slightly so that I could refocus on her question. "Um, I left because I just didn't want to start off my time here with that kind of thing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, after last night, I can see how easily it would to mistake passion for…other emotions. Especially with someone like me, who never experienced even a hint of that kind of thing…well, except with you, of course."

Rosalie giggled, "I'm flattered, Bella."

"You should be," I laughed, giving her a small smile before I continued.

"I just woke up and saw us lying there together and decided right then that I couldn't look at him as anything more than…my instructor," I told her with a shrug, reliving the warring thoughts in my mind. It felt strange to refer to him like that, even weirder hearing myself say it out loud, but that was what he was essentially. And to sleep with him would be blurring the lines a little too early in the game in my opinion.

"So, I left," I told her, watching the different patterns on my comforter intently as I tried to keep myself from focusing on the mixed feelings I was having.

"You know, I really like chocolate," Rosalie said in an absentminded tone, causing me to glance up at her curiously. "The darker, the better, and I have a feeling we'll be able to scrounge up some chocolate cake downstairs if we're lucky."

I smiled softly, knowing Rosalie was changing the subject in the best way she could: Enticing me with promises of a chocolate induced stupor. And I couldn't have loved her more for it.

"Come on," she said, nudging me softly with her shoulder. "You still have some time before your training. Let's get good and sauced."

"You gunna be there? In the Deck, I mean," I asked as I stood from the bed, walking over to my dresser to grab some sweat cutoffs and a tank top.

"Yeah," she replied, her expression falling slightly as if she was uneasy with something. "But only for the question aspect of it."

"Hmmm… Intriguing," I replied thoughtfully as I pulled the thin material of my tank top over my head. I grabbed a hair tie off my dresser and pulled my full mop of hair up into a messy bun. "Lead the way, oh bringer of thy sinful delight..."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

If I thought I was borderline lethargic after my night with Edward, I wasn't the only one. None of the Betties dressed for the occasion. It seemed we'd all had eventful and fulfilling nights, leaving us feeling a little lethargic and grungy. I, for one, enjoyed the way my body felt both limber and sore.

Tanya and Lauren were standing by the large glass window that overlooked the darkened room beyond, talking softly to each other while sipping on flutes of champagne. They were both dressed casually, but nothing like what I was sporting. Rosalie had told me to dress comfortably, so I did. Sue me if they found it less than fashionable.

I was relieved to find both Angela and Jessica wrapped under a large blanket in the Observation Deck, both of them dressed comfortably, matching my yoga slash sweatshirt ensemble. They were muttering softly to each other in rapid succession like two old bitties sharing the latest gossip.

"Hey girls," I called as I approached. Meeting both their smiling faces was a relief. I guessed I'd been worried about how their nights went, but it was obvious that there were no disappointments on their end.

"Bella," Jessica greeted warmly as Angela lifted the large blanket, making room for me underneath. "Hey girlie. How was your night?"

"Never mind that," I replied evasively. "I want to know what put those smiles on your faces. Good night?"

"The best…" Angela replied, her eyes closing dreamily.

"Angela was just going to tell me all about it," Jessica replied, turning toward Angela expectantly.

"Who was your Consort?" I asked her, watching as her eyes lit up with the question. Angela glanced around her quickly, seeing if the other two bimbos were ease dropping on our convo. My eyes followed hers to see both Tanya and Lauren deep in their own discussion, oblivious to the three of us. Just the way I liked it.

"I'm not sharing unless you guys will," she said as she looked back at me, her expression barring no argument.

"I'm down to share," Jessica answered automatically. "I was with Jacob."

"Really?" I asked in surprise.

"Oooo, yummy…" Angela replied.

"You have no idea," Jessica stated matter-of-factly, and if the sly smirk on her face was any indication, the little peek I'd received of his body during what had become to be known as the 'Shirtless Manmeat Moving Day' was only a tease to what was hidden underneath all of that clothing.

"And who was the guy to put that pretty little exhausted smile you have on your face?" Angela asked me, giving me a little wink to emphasis her observation.

"Edward," I told her unabashedly, smiling like a mad woman as Jessica fanned herself dramatically and Angela let out a low whistle.

"Oh my god, seriously?" Lauren's bitchy ass voice sounded from across the deck, echoing around the walls like screeching nails on a chalkboard. "It's like they've never been laid before."

"At least not by a man of worth," Tanya added, her pointy noise and snarky attitude matching Lauren's to a 'T'.

"Umm, I don't think we were talking to you all," Jessica told them, her voice timid but she wasn't backing down from their attitude nonetheless. I was proud of her; a complete change to how she'd been inside that limo.

"I doesn't matter if you were talking to us or not, we could hear you all simpering like a stray dogs from over here," Lauren replied. "It's pathetic, and in all honesty, just another reason it perplexes me how the three of you even got into the program."

"Wow," I replied, feigning shock and bother. "Girls, it seems like someone has a case of sour grapes."

"How do you figure?" Lauren asked, crossing her thin arms across her plastic chest.

"Well, it's apparent that the three of us had something between our legs last night. And if my math is right, that means one of you two catty bitches was alone hitting the Rabbit a little hard."

"You see, that's where you would be wrong," Lauren returned with a shit-eating grin on her face. "You'd be an idiot if you think that any of those men you were with wasn't with one of us last night, too. Just because they _had _to take you little girls to bed doesn't mean that they didn't invite a real woman to play as well."

"That's not how it works, Lauren, and you know it," Jessica argued, leveling an icy glare of her own across the room.

"No, how it works is you three need to put your big girl panties on and stop acting like the world's filled with sunshine and roses because you climaxed for the first time."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think what we were talking about was any of your damn business," I argued, giving her my own glare of disapproval. In the back of my mind, there was a part of me that was questioning what she said was true or not. The idea of swapping juices with one of those girls gave my stomach a roll, not to mention the idea of what I'd shared with Edward last night was just his first course. It just seemed like something close to sacrilege, in my book.

"How could I help myself with the three of you all giggly and naive over there?" Lauren asked rhetorically. "It's disgusting, really."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel the need to make others feel bad because you had a lonely night," I replied. "But I, for one, refuse to let your acrid personality ruin our day because you didn't get your kitty pet like the rest of us did. Excuse me."

I turned toward the other girls, effectively giving Lauren a cold shoulder and cutting off the conversation completely. Oh, she could sit there and continue her little tirade, but I was done. And by the looks on Angela and Jessica's faces, they were as well.

"Forget them," I told my two friends bluntly. "They can keep their cold, petty asses over there. I'm sick of them."

"Come on, I want to know more about last night. Who were you with, Ang?" Jessica encouraged, and I couldn't love her more in that moment for changing the subject completely.

"Can we talk about it later?" Angela asked with a timid expression. "I don't know; it just feels weird talking about it now where they can hear."

"Just forget about them," I told her. "Listen, where I grew up, there were plenty of girls like those two. They only act the way they do because their either, a: jealous; or b: jealous. I know why Lauren acted the way she did, and it was because she was the only one of us who was left out of the fun. Just see her attitude for what it is and tell us who you boinked last night."

Jessica laughed. "I completely agree with that assessment, Ms Betty," she said as she held an imaginary goblet of honor toward my direction.

"Why thank you, madam," I replied humbly, clinking my proverbial glass of whoop ass aside hers. Angela giggled at our antics.

"Alright, fine," she replied, glancing over toward Lauren and Tanya to see if they were eavesdropping. When she was satisfied that they were in their own discussion, Angela turned back to me, her eyes eager but her face was tinted with a tell-tale blush. Whether it was from remembering the deets from her night with her Consort or from embarrassment at the idea of Lauren and Tanya listening in, I couldn't tell. She looked at her blanket as she answered.

"Seth," she said in a soft whisper, and Jessica let out a little giggle at her admission.

"And?" I prompted when she remained silent.

"And, it was nice…" Angela answered, smiling as she continued to stare at the patterns in her blanket, her finger tracing the edges of a particularly interesting design.

"Nice?" Jessica asked. "My grandmother is nice. That man is fuckhot, so I know that there has to be more than just nice."

"He is pretty delicious, isn't he…"Angela replied as the blush on her cheeks deepened minutely.

"So, tell me something," Jessica said, leaning in to us further while lowering her voice. "How many tats does he have?"

"Ummm, quite a few," Angela replied as she tucked a free strand of hair behind her ear. "Most of them you can see with his shirt off."

"And the others?" I asked, watching as Angela's eyes seemed to glaze over at a memory.

"There's a few that seemed to be, well, _strategically_ placed," she replied, a smirk framing her pink, plush lips.

"How so?" Jessica asked.

"Well, he seems to get more…how should I say this…aroused when I traced them with my tongue."

"Ungh," Jessica replied, fanning herself a little as a heat wave enveloped her.

"Hey, I have a question for you guys," I said after a moment of shared giggles and whispered secrets. "Did either of you stay the night with your Consort?"

"What do you mean?" Jessica asked, her expression becoming pensive.

"I mean did you guys stay in the playroom when you were done?"

"No," Angela answered, looking at me curiously. It looked like she wanted to say more, but was interrupted when the door to the deck opened and a few of the Dames walked in.

"Ladies, have a seat," Rosalie directed as she stood in front of the two-way mirror, blocking our view and garnering our attention. I watched as Kate and Alice took seats closest to the door, both in the middle of a whispered discussion. I caught Lauren glaring at me as she pushed away from the window. To piss her off further, I blew her a little 'fuck you' kiss, using the tip of my middle finger as launching deck. In return, her eyes narrowed and her nose flared, then she abruptly turned and planted her skinny ass on a chair right next to Tanya.

"Today is going to be your first official training day. I know most of you had your first experience with your Consorts last night, but that's just part of the program: An opportunity to play out what you witness in the Deck."

Jessica giggled as sly smirk appeared on Rosalie's face, a small indulgence of her otherwise all business demeanor.

"Before we begin, I want to give you all a quick reminder about respect and responsibility when it comes to witnessing another couple in an intimate act: What happens here stays here. Some of what you will see in here may be a little uncomfortable for a few of you who may not be into that sort of thing. You can leave at any time, but be respectful as you do it. No one will look down on you for having to excuse yourselves. The girls and I are staying in here in case there are questions about what's going on, and I have a couple minutes to answer any now."

"What exactly is going on in there?" Jessica asked, obviously not liking Rosalie's little disclaimer before things even started.

"I'm sure you've been told by your Dames before that the Cullens practice in varying forms of sexual intimacy. Today, you will witness one of these lifestyles. Like I've said before, be respectful even in your comments afterward. Some of the Pledges here may live this lifestyle or may have dabbled in it from time to time. Some of you have even voiced your interest, and I know at least one of the Consorts dedicates his life to this kind of play. That's all I'm going to say about it."

Rosalie took a step away from the large window toward the door. She lowered the lighting in the Deck so that we could better see into the playroom on the other side. It was only then that I noticed dim recessed lighting in the ceiling along the edges of the room, serving as a soft spotlight and illuminated certain aspects.

From what I could see, the walls were painted in a deep plum, almost resembling the color of a deep bruise. There wasn't much in the room, only a few things in the back that were cast into shadow and a couple tables that were draped in thick, red material, covering what was underneath like a macabre sterilized surgical tray.

A quiet hush fell over the Deck as we took in the scene, almost as if we were waiting for a much anticipated film to start. I half expected Jessica to bust out with some popcorn and jujubes from underneath her blanket.

A moment later, another light was switched on, the same intensity as the others, only this one was aimed toward the center of the room, casting a subtle light onto a figure kneeling on the floor.

"Holy. Shit," Jessica muttered, and I couldn't help but agree with her. There was a well muscled man kneeling on the carpet, wearing a black mask and black leather chaps, and that was it. His cock was standing out erect, and he head was bowed. It looked like his hands were bound behind his back, the muscles of his chest and shoulders held tight by the position he was kept in.

He looked like an erotic warrior, down on the ground both in submission and supplication. His firm muscles were taut and preening, his thick erection hard and ready. But for whom?

From my point of view, I couldn't tell who the male was. His leather mask covered the majority of his face, and his head was bowed so low that only the top of his head was the most prominent. I looked around the room quickly, trying to make out something or someone else that could give me a clue as to what would happen next. I had an idea, obviously, but in the anticipatory silence, the intrigue was both enticing and agonizing.

I almost felt bad for the male, with his rock-hard appendage shooting out of his groin like a wild flower seeking the sun. I had no idea how long he'd been like that. His body seemed tense yet relaxed at the same time, oddly enough. His muscles were pulled taut, ready to strike, yet his body language was submissive. And all the while I watched him kneel there silently, all I thought about was how painful it had to be keeping that thing ready for use

I mean, all he had for stimulation was a couple of strips of leather on his body and bindings keeping him poised.

Perhaps that was a part of it, though. The thought of a man tying me up seemed to spark something deep inside of me. Maybe some men got off on that kind of thing only in reverse.

"It's time to please me," a woman's voice sounded from within the room, a silky smooth voice that held erotic promises – the stuff wet dreams were made of. "Are you ready to serve?"

"Yes, mistress," the male replied without raising his head. "I'm always ready to serve."

"I know you are…"

A tall woman walked into the room with her back toward us, her gaze fixed on her prize upon the floor. Her long, black dress fit like a second skin, moving with her, highlighting every curve to her body. The slope of her back was subtle and elegant, and the fabric dipped down and delicately kissed her tailbone. Her skin was bronzed and soft looking, her ebony hair hung in soft curls along her shoulders. The elbow-length black gloves she wore added grace and style, like she could've been going to the opera.

It was when she took a step into the room, closer to her subject on the floor that her dress parted along the length of her leg, revealing a large slit in the fabric that hit the top of her pelvis, leaving everything bare.

"Do you know how much I look forward to our meetings?" the woman asked softly.

"Yes, my mistress – as much as I do, and more."

"Hmmm, we'll see…" she walked to the center of the room, looking down upon her male with an air of scrutiny, as if she were looking at a piece of art worthy of interpretation.

And like she found her subject lacking in some way, she calmly walked toward a small cupboard in the back of the room that was hidden by shadow, attitude and purpose in her gait. She opened the double doors and stood staring into its depths, as if contemplating the contents inside. In a quick motion, she pushed her hand inside and grabbed a long, thin object. She pulled it out, placing it behind her back and hiding it from our view.

"Are you willing to serve me?" she asked, approaching him from behind. It was the first time that she offered us a frontal view, and now I realized that the woman was Carmen, and I could only assume that the man was Eleazar.

I couldn't see his expression or his face, but I felt the anticipation grow in the atmosphere, as if what Carmen held in her hand would ignite the lust he contained under the surface.

"I am, Mistress," he replied, and for the first time, I heard the yearning in his voice. He wanted the domination; he wanted the hunger that came with the submission he gave her.

"Good," she replied with obvious approval, then she brought the object she held in full frontal view. I just had time to register that it was a black crop, strong and steady, before it came swinging down onto the broad of his back. It made a sharp whacking sound, making some of us jump slightly from both the sound and from the obvious sting it caused him. He didn't move, didn't seem to register the pain. He held still, not tensing nor flinching, and his lack of reaction seemed to please Carmen.

"Perfect," she almost moaned, as if his resolve was more of a turn on than a response would have been. She walked in front of him, her black gown trailing, following the flow of her movement and parting to reveal the vast expanse of her bare leg from hip bone to delicate ankle. Her expression was all but slight, however.

She started in short, sharp strokes, striking Eleazar upon his bare chest and on the side of his face. The strokes themselves were not harsh, but they had to have left a small bite afterward. And yet, he didn't move. He knelt there in the same position he'd started in: head bent, face down, knees parted, cock ready and hard.

"I like how responsive you are," she told him, and at first, I was confused by her statement. To me, he wasn't responding at all, as if her strokes were hitting nothing but concrete. Taking a closer look, I saw that his cock was harder than before, and his body was just as tense as his shaft, almost like an electrode had been placed on every muscle in his body, charging them into readiness. "So good. So well behaved."

She landed a couple more blows, leaving several spots on his skin bright red. I could see a slight sheen of sweat building on Eleazar's pecs, but he didn't seem to notice. Neither did Carmen. I switched my gaze to her now, watching how she used her tool of torture. She seemed to never hit the same place twice, only warming the skin enough to cause an automatic reaction to the flesh itself, keeping her male's senses heightened and poised.

She moved her riding crop lower and lower down his body, hitting the rounded peaks of his well-muscled abs. He didn't tighten them when she struck; he was already hard and coiled. When she landed a few swipes to his pelvis, I started to get worried for the poor boy.

Now, I wasn't a man, but I knew being hit in the junk was not a picnic in the park. In fact, I seemed to remember getting sent to the office in the sixth grade when I kicked Tommy Peters in the nads when he tried to kiss me. The poor kid was limping for a week. So, keeping that little experience in the back of my mind, coupled by all the comments I'd heard from the opposite sex and their sensitivity to their bits, I was really watching closely at Eleazar's reaction as she inched her little crop lower to his happy land. It was almost like one of those train wreck scenarios – you know it's going to be gruesome but you couldn't look away.

Yeah, my eyes were glued to the scene before me.

With sure, steady strokes, Carmen brought down the end of the crop onto his thick erection, making the stiff rod bob a little. She moaned slightly, and then did it again in quick succession.

"Nice," she all but whispered, then stepped back abruptly, resting her crop on her hip as she looked down at her reddened erotic warrior.

"You did well, my love," she told him firmly yet kindly. "You may thank me." Immediately, Eleazar bent down and kissed the small ankles of his Mistress in reverence, one right after the other.

Carmen took a step back from him and he quickly resumed his previous position: head down, knees apart, arms bound tightly behind him.

"I like seeing your skin all red like that," Carmen told him as if in passing as she made her way to the red-covered tables. In a quick motion, she removed one of the towels that draped what looked like several thin steel rods. Lying next to the instruments was a pair of sterile latex gloves. "The way you deal with the pain, keeping it inside of you and channeling it – there is nothing about our time that turns me on more. Let's see if we can both have our fun, shall we?"

Abruptly, Rosalie rose from her seat and walked toward the glass just as Carmen finished donning her gloves and grabbing one of the steel rods. With a couple soft wraps on the glass, Carmen looked toward the two-way mirror with a look that could have killed Medusa on the spot. She paused briefly, searing whoever had dared interrupt her session of torture with a gaze of death, and then just as quickly as it appeared, her vicious expression retreated.

"I guess we'll have to save those for another time," she said almost absentmindedly, setting down the rod on the table and turning back toward Eleazar with a pensive look on her face. "I guess you aren't the only one whose will is being thwarted this evening."

"What was that about, I wonder," Jessica said in a soft whisper.

"It's called a Sound," Angela replied, looking toward the rods that still rested on the red-draped table. "They insert them into a male's urethra for stimulation. It's part of pain play in a scene."

Jessica and I looked at her incredulously, our eyebrows disappearing into our hairlines. Besides the fact that I was incredibly surprised sweet, innocent Angela knew what that was, the thought of that coming anywhere near my pee-hole had me cringing and clenching simultaneously. I didn't know which was more shocking, the idea of the sounding or the fact that Angela knew what it was.

"What?" Angela asked, shrinking down into the blanket at our expressions. "I know how to Google…"

"I think I have a better idea," Carmen said thoughtfully, bringing our attention back into the room. "Since we cannot venture into our more favorable pastime, I think we can teach the girls a thing or two about endurance."

"Yes, Mistress," Eleazar replied.

"I want you on the table," Carmen told him in a deep, commanding tone.

"As you wish," he told her softly. He immediately rose from his position, and while keeping his head down, he turned toward a long table in the back of the room. The flat surface was cushioned, almost like the ones I'd used at my Gyno's office. Only this one didn't have any of those leg-spreader things that always made me cringe when I'd see them out.

Eleazar sat on the table, careful to keep his gaze down, as Carmen approached him from the side. She unbound his hand from behind him and instructed him to lie on his back. Once he was in position, she refastened his arms above his head, tying the bindings to the table so that he couldn't touch her. She repeated the same action with his feet, keeping him sprawled out on the table, completely at her mercy.

Suddenly, those stirrups at my doc's office didn't seem so intimidating.

"Yes, this is much better," Carmen purred as she circled the table, her expression like a hunting feline ensnaring her prey. With quick strides she returned to the red table and picked up her crop, a gleam in her eye that made me incredibly curious as to what she was thinking.

"I am going to give you very specific instructions," she told him as she returned to his bedside. "I want only the response I'm looking for, and that is it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

At his response, Carmen brought down the crop onto his skin, a sharp thwack resounding throughout the room. She repeated the same movements she had before, only these seemed more intense, designed to bring about an entirely different result.

"You will not come, do you understand?" Carmen said on a pant, and I couldn't tell if she was out of breath because of the countless strokes she was delivering on his skin, or the fact that the pair of them was becoming more and more aroused as she continued.

"Yes, Mistress," Eleazar replied, and this time, I could hear more of a strain in his voice. Whether from pleasure or from pain, I couldn't tell.

When she arrived at his cock, Carmen showed him no mercy. She brought down the crop again and again until his skin was beet red, almost purple with the amount of blood rushing to the area. And yet, Eleazar was still rock hard, ready, wanton.

In a quick movement, Carmen dropped her crop on the ground and pulled her gown off her shoulders. The fabric fell from her body in a graceful tumble of silk, leaving her bare except for her silken, elbow-length gloves.

"Yes, my love," Carmen crooned as she ran her hands down her male's body, and I was sure that the contrast of the cool silk along his body after the sting of the crop was quiet stimulating. It seemed that I was right, for I could see his thick length twitch at her touch. And yet his expression never changed. Not one moan befell his lips. The entire time, Eleazar was composed, reserved, as if he wasn't affected in the slightest.

Endurance, indeed…

Carmen's silk-covered hands encased his erection, pulling and smoothing along the hardened shaft and pumping him towards the edge of a climax. I didn't know how he could possibly resist the urge to orgasm, she was working him so hard, but he didn't. Even when she wrapped her satin lips around his head, taking him deep inside her warm mouth, he didn't finish. When she straddled him on the table, sheathing him inside her body, he didn't flinch, or grimace, or groan. And though she rode him through two of her own climaxes, he didn't orgasm. It was only when she was coming to her third, when both their bodies were covered in sweat, did she finally give him permission to let go.

"Now, my love. Come with me now!"

And he did, roaring through his release, bringing her with him. Both of them shot through the atmosphere together, shaking, clenching, and riding their climax to exponential heights.

I'd never witnessed anything like it: Her domination, his supplication, their shared orgasmic eruption. I was amazed.

And suddenly my ideals about sex seemed way more small-town than I had ever thought possible. There was so much more for me to explore, for me to find, and my first training session seemed to cement my resolve even more.

God, I loved being a Cullen…

* * *

**AN: So, Betty didn't win the Golden Lemon but I was super stoked for the nom. The story was also nom'd over at the Shimmer Awards, but there was no way I was getting that one. LOL! Competition was waaaaaay too stiff. Betty was nom'd over at the Inspired Fan Fic Awards, but I don't know if she made it through to the second round of voting. If she did, voting will start up again on March 1****st****. If not, make sure you all vote for your favs! Well, vote for your favs in any case. LOL!**

**As always, the Deck has been updated, as well as some character pics for Carmen & Eleazar. The blog is filled with all things Cullen. Shoot me a comment when you visit! Oh, and by the way, you guys kill me with the polls over there. It seems a lot of you think Seth makes a great Consort. I must say I have to agree with you all. Yummy…**

**And Jodi wants you all to know that she was hiding out in the Deck during the scene, hanging out with Bella and the gang under the blanket. ;)**

**Rec: The Geheime Vernietinging by amoredjenaue**** – () I'm only about halfway through this one and it's an awesome read. There is so much mystery and intrigue, not to mention her Edward is freakin' steaming. It's a complete story, so for those of you who are looking for your next read, pick up this one. And thanks to Jodi for the rec. She always has great stories in her list. **


	20. The Liar

**Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization.©2011 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to Hibbleton, Neliz, Cutecanukgirl, and AJsilentvoice!**

* * *

The Liar

~ Betty Pledge ~

Some have called me a prude, but those assertions were made from the men I wouldn't let in. I'd been accused of being that unadventurous introvert. I was known as the smart one, the quiet one.

Didn't their mothers ever teach them that those were the women to watch out for?

I'd lived a good part of my adult life hiding behind a façade, keeping that carefully cultivated exterior in place. I had the expected career, the predicted shining future ahead of me, and the appropriately guesstimated amount of small, rat-like dogs to my name.

I rarely dated. Well, no one that anyone knew about at least. In my free time, I had my head in a book and my mind on analytical quandaries. I discussed with my peers the typical topics that concerned our demographic: politics, literature, and the occasional celebrity scandal that broke through the rigid exterior of the upper class; after all, the more fortunate in life should be immune to the vulgar entertainment that ensnared the mundane.

The life I lived was a lie, and yet I was happy. I was confident in who I was, content with leading the infamous double life. To me, it made me the woman I knew he'd want.

Some would say that what I craved made me depraved, twisted. That interpretation was spawned from ignorance alone, for all good things come to those who think outside the box.

I'd been instructed to meet him in a quiet, vacant room that lacked as much in warmth as it did any type of furnishings. The walls were covered in mirrors, almost like the rigid, straight-lined ballet studios I grew up in as a dancer. I found a black wooden stool in the center of the white marble floor and took a seat as instructed by my Consort.

The red silk robe I had on spread wide at my hips, revealing the long expanse of my slender legs. I was bare beneath, as also instructed, my heart in my throat as I awaited his arrival. The low, plunging neckline barely covered the swell of my breasts, rising and falling with every breath I took. The soft fall of my hair hung in a dark curtain, brushing up against the middle of my back as I sat rigidly, gaze held downward, waiting…breathing.

It felt like I'd been forever waiting.

He was the reason I was here, at the Cullen Mansion, going through the program. I had wanted him from the first moment I'd heard of him.

I knew of him in name only, catching tidbits from other girls he'd had before. I knew he was kind yet forceful, forgiving yet expectant. Total obedience was his mantra, his prize was adoration, respect, and unbridled, incomparable passion.

I wanted him. I wanted to _serve_ him, wanted him to claim me.

And so I sat, nervous beyond measure, my heart in my throat, my palms a sweaty mess… I could not screw this up. I had to show him who I was…

I could hear movement from the hallway, a low, steady beat of someone pacing. Was it him? Did the moment come at last?

Slowly, the door across from me creaked open. I did not look up, keeping my gaze fixed on the ground out of respect. I was not his as of yet, and I didn't even know if he'd ever consider me. In any case, he deserved deference, and no matter how much pleasure I'd give him, that above all else would be my greatest gift.

"Angela," he said his tone sounded somewhat staggered at my posture. He had to have known what I was. I knew he'd read my file.

I didn't look up, wanting to show him that I was aware of what he was, yet not going as far as to assume that he'd play.

"Sire," I said softly, a slight smile curving my lips. I heard a sharp intake of breath at my choice of words, then the soft click of the door closing behind him.

"I have to say that I was somewhat surprised," he said in an authoritative, deep timber, dropping all pretenses. He started a slow stroll around me, his presence commanding and direct, the man I was desperate to meet making a slight appearance. "From what I've read of your file, your personality doesn't seem to go with the lifestyle."

"How so?" I asked, knowing that my challenge was a little ballsy of me. He hadn't asked me a direct question or given me permission to speak. The only reason I pressed him was the fact that I wasn't his, and I think a part of me wanted to shoot him that little reminder as somewhat of an enticement. Maybe the twitching palm at his side would urge him to take that step with me. My breath ceased as he stopped his slow walk; I could feel his eyes boring into me from several paces away.

"From what I know of you, I see you being timid and evasive in life, shying away from who you truly are and only coming up for air when you think no one is looking. I think you feel you are expected to be a certain way and you conform to what suits your secret."

I knew he would try to bait me, and I was ready for it. I kept quiet, the perfect picture of respect and capitulation. My gaze stayed downcast as he continued

"I don't see you as the type of person to give your body freely to someone else." He paused in front of me, his bare feet coming into my view, the tops of his ankles covered by the hem of his frayed jeans. "Based on the way you've conformed to everything that is expected of you, I wouldn't think that vulnerability would sit well with you."

"I have no problem letting go of my control as long as I feel safe," I replied honestly. He remained silent for several moments, unmoving. Finally, mercifully, he started speaking, his tone more formal now.

"Tell me, how many masters have you had?"

"None, Sire," I told him calmly, my posture remaining deferential. He balked for a moment, but seemed to recover quickly.

"How do you know what I am?" This time his tone had more speculation and wariness laced in the edges. Perhaps I wasn't the only one hiding away in a farce of an existence.

"I heard your name once or twice in the community. The man who trained me spoke very highly of you."

"I thought you didn't have a master," he said brusquely, his tone thick with reprimand.

"I don't," I answered softly. "I've never been collared, Sire."

"And this man didn't feel you worthy enough of his collar?"

"He believes as I do, Sire: collars are meant for a committed relationship. I would never have accepted one from him – from any Dom – until I had that understanding and feeling behind it. I'm not in this lifestyle for a momentary excitement. This is who I am, who I will be."

"Demetri is your trainer," he stated rather than asked, and I could hear the underlying respect in his observation. It was well known in the community that Demetri produced remarkable submissives, ones that were exceptionally disciplined and beautifully obedient. It was also common knowledge that he did not collar any of them. Having a strict code of distinction for that role in his mind, he'd only given those he was in a long term relationship that honor. I had not been his girlfriend by any stretch of the word, only under his protection, but I did adopt his belief, finding that it fit my own blueprint.

"He was, Sire," I told him. "I left his service several months ago."

"Did he dismiss you?" he asked, his voice demanding absolute truth.

"No, Sire. He did not. We left on amicable terms with the understanding that if I were at a munch alone, I would fall under his protection once more, provided his collar was not given to another."

"That is not a service he provides all of his former subs," he told me pensively. I didn't acknowledge the question in his statement. "I must say that your discipline is commendable. I do not understand why you show it to me, however."

"I have been taught that any Dom in my presence is worthy of respect," I told him. "But you most of all. It is my wish to show you that honor."

"And if I offered you a collar?" he asked, letting the question hang in the air between us. I hated the way he said it, implying that he didn't have just one collared to his name. With that small statement he revealed that he didn't have the same regard for his collared subs as I had. It made me sad inside, but I held my stature.

"I would not accept it," I told him honestly. "It would be dishonor to you and to myself."

"But you have no problem playing with a Dom," he said rather than asked.

"I have no issue servicing a Dom of worth," I clarified. "And more of a desire to serve you, Sire."

I could hear him approach me, the heat from his body encroaching upon me, stifling the air. My breath caught in my throat at his close proximity.

"Look at me," he told me, his tone demanding. I slowly lifted my head, my eyes traveling the contours of his jean clad legs. There were small rips in the fabric along his calf and on one of his thighs. The skin was visible underneath, and I could see the elaborate design of his tattoo that decorated the top portion of his muscular thigh. The pattern was extensive, and I could tell that the tail end of it finished at the higher part of his groin. I groaned internally, my eyes narrowing as they continued their slow trek up his glorious form.

He wore a black muscle shirt that hugged his corded arms and chest like a second skin. His strong biceps were visible, covered in tattooed sleeves of colored ink, the slick lines and edges of his rigid strength making my heart palpate all the more. I took in his large, thick hands, knowing the kind of pain and pleasure they could bring. I let out a slow hiss through my parted lips as I met his heady gaze, his lust and passion brimming through his patient exterior.

When my eyes met his, I could see the massive amount of control required to keep him steady. He'd complimented me on my discipline yet he had nothing on me. He was cultured in the art, refined in his ascendancy. Despite how practiced he was, the storm brewing underneath had my insides zinging, and my core moistening.

"I don't usually play with Betties," he said in a soft whisper, a hint of a curse beneath his statement. I remained silent, knowing that he didn't state that fact for a response. It was almost as if by saying it aloud, he was trying to reaffirm his stance in his mind. I felt my heart jump at it nonetheless, for if he had to state it, I knew he thought of breaking that vow. I didn't want to push him too soon, however. He was the one I wanted, he was the one I craved. So, instead of challenging him now, I would bide my time. It would happen at some point, and it would be my pleasure to wait him out.

"I don't wish to play," I told him confidently, my eyebrow lifting in a teasing way. "I only wish to serve."

"And how are you planning to do that?" he challenged, his gaze holding mine steadily. Without breaking eye contact, I slowly shifted from the stiff, wooden seat and knelt to the ground. The hard, cold marble bit into my knees, but I didn't care. I was used to being uncomfortable when I pleased a man. To me, the pain melted into the pleasure, heightened it to the point of exquisite torment.

My eyes traveled the length of him, taking their fill of all his glory. He stood before me, a tall statue of the most masculine beauty: Hard lines and sinew shaped and honed into the perfect specimen. I wanted to put my mouth on him, please him to the point where he was panting. I let my eyes reach his once more, and I saw such an intense look about them, zoning into me like he could will my clothes off just with his stare alone. It melted me on the spot, and hardened my resolve to show him what having me as a sub would be like.

I held his gaze as my steady hands reached for his jeans. He watched me as I released the buttoned fly, revealing his silken skin one inch at a time. He didn't wear anything underneath the hard fabric as I expected he wouldn't. It was beneath a sexual creature like him to have something so confining upon his sex.

I let my fingertips spread his parted jeans further, revealing his glorious erection. He was hard and long, the tip of him weeping a pearl of molten liquid. My hands rounded his bare ass, pushing the fabric down until he was completely unveiled to me. Without any further preamble, I set my mouth into motion, wrapping my lips around his mushroom head and taking him to the back of my throat.

I heard him groan, and that sound coming from such a man of worth made me hot. I worked him over, plunging and retrieving, licking and devouring, until he was rigid with restraint. I could tell by the slight movement in his hips that he was holding back the urge to thrust forward. I didn't want him holding back. I wanted all of him, his passion and his strength, his command and his unbridled domination.

If he wouldn't play with a Betty, perhaps he would give me just a small glimpse of the master within.

With my hands on his ass, I pulled his hips forward slightly, encouraging his movements. I heard his breath hitch in his throat, but yet he did not move as I wanted him to.

And so I teased him.

I held my lips just over his blunt head, only penetrating deep enough to give him a hint of warmth my hot mouth could offer his rigid cock. My tongue licked under the ridge of his plum-like tip, teasing and making him all the more stiff and engorged. I let one hand travel to his sack, playing and kneading the soft skin while the other stayed on his firm cheeks. He still wouldn't move his resolve firm in keeping his stature.

I pulled my mouth from him completely, but I allowed my hands to continue their subtle game of tug and pull. I leaned back on my haunches, glancing up at him with hooded eyes. He was staring at me with the same molten expression, and I wondered what I looked like to him: on my knees before him, my robe parting, barely keeping my naked form covered. Was I the picture of supplication? Or was I some hopeless, pathetic girl who wanted a master of dominance for her own?

"Why are you here?" he grunted through a clenched jaw. "You obviously have no need for training."

"The same reason you are here," I told him in reply, my fingers dancing along his skin, tracing the edges of the tattoo that encased his groin and hips. I kept my touch soft yet present, ever keeping him on the edge of that well balanced control. And in all honestly, his talking was becoming a distraction.

I leaned in once more; this time my mouth touched everything but his rigid length. I ran the tip of my tongue along the black ink along his thigh all the way to his groin, paying close attention to the defined dimensions of his lower abdominal muscles that angled into the glorious, firm sex standing at attention due to my torturous nurturing. Out of the corner of my eye I could see it twitch, making my lips turn up in a smirk across his heated skin.

"Enough," he said gruffly. "I thought you said you wanted to serve me, not torture me."

"Yes…_Sire_," I whispered with poorly hidden valor, proud that I was able to rattle his polished, golden cage. I plunged my mouth over his hard length until I felt the rosy tip hit the back of my throat. Hollowing my cheeks, I pulled back slowly, allowing the tip of my tongue to run under the length of him, teasing the protruding veins that supplied his cock with such rigid ferocity.

"Shit…" I heard him mutter just as his hands threaded through the hair at the nape of my neck. I smiled around his dick, glad that he was finally letting the sensations take over. I glanced up through my lashes to see his jaw set in a tight clamp, his eyes fixed on the image of what I was doing to him reflecting from the mirror across the room. Countless angles surrounded us, each offering him different view of my mouth on his sex; the curves and contours of my body positioned in such a way the visions of my homage to him shone with distinct beauty.

I wanted him to get lost with me, to forget all the implications my being Demetri's former mentee could mean, and let him feel how good I could make him feel.

I sank him into my mouth over and over again, taking him as deep as I could, my fingertips playing with the parts of him left untouched by my lips. Bringing my mouth to the edge of him, I let my tongue tease the head of him in a circular motion, earning myself a deep-seated growl from the one I pleased.

Suddenly, I felt myself being lifted off the ground. His rock hard sex disappeared from my mouth, his strong hands grabbing my under my arms. His glare was fierce and demanding, his strength unparalleled. He gripped me under my chin, his long fingers wrapping around my jaw and angling my face to his. Without mercy, he placed his lips on mine, demanding and seeking. We danced, he and I; our tongues mingling, our breath mixing, until we were both dizzy with need.

His mouth disappeared a moment later, just as abruptly as it had appeared, and then he was pulling me toward one of the mirror covered walls, his pace measured, his steps echoing across the empty room. I was about to ask what he was doing, but the intrigue heightened his mystery. My Consort put his hand on a part of the mirror and pushed. Slowly, a part of the wall gave way, revealing a hidden room behind the glass.

He pulled me into the darkness beyond, closing the thick door behind us. I did not see a handle in the disappearing light shining in from the vacant room as the door shut. I twinge of fear shot through my heart at the sight, but it quickly turned to a heated ache, the uncertainty turning into something from an erotic fantasy.

We were plunged into pitch black; the only sound was my panting breaths and the beating of my frantic heart. My eyes widened as they adjusted to the lack of light, trying to make out the ominous shapes around me. I heard movement but couldn't pinpoint where it came from. The extended of silence was daunting yet intriguing, and I only hoped that this marked a beginning for the both of us: Hidden in obscurity, laced with captivation, spiked with a passion insurmountable to anything I'd experienced, or would experience again.

A soft light came on with a quiet click. In the center of the hidden room stood my Consort, his form cast in white light from a wide barreled lamp hanging above him. The shadowed shapes around me took form, and with a sudden gasp, I realized that the room I was in housed several items used in the BDSM lifestyle: Whipping benches, a large row of hooks, chains and whips, a wooden cross hung on one of the walls across from a large gilded mirror.

Before I could take in the vast display, he closed the distance between us; his large hand clamped down on mine with sharp demand. He pulled me across the room without a word, coming to a wide bed laced in black silk sheets. He flung me down upon it, the red robe I wore flaring out to reveal my long legs to the top of my bare sex. I heard him growl at the sight before he approached, a hunger in his eyes I'd been craving to see.

"This is how it will be," he told me, his voice hoarse. "When you are with me you will serve me. If I see fit, you will submit. If I feel like fucking, you will oblige. I know you are not here for training; that has been made clear."

"I'm here for you," I told him honestly, my eyes imploring him to see the truth.

"Further, you will not speak to me unless given permission," he said sharply, all but ignoring my telling statement. "You will greet me in the same manner, in the same attire, as you did this evening. You will not utter a sound until told; you will not come until told. I want to see how far your discipline spreads."

I did not reply, for it was unwanted. He seemed to be pleased with that fact, for he let out a small grunt of approval.

"Shall we see how well you harbor _your_ control now?" With that, he tore away my gown, revealing my nude body to his viewing. My breasts were swollen, tipped with erect and throbbing nipples. My waistline was trim, stomach flat, my falling around my shoulders in deep chocolate waves. "I want you in the center of the bed, legs wide, arms above your head. Now."

I complied without hesitation or sound. My legs spread apart, my core moist and ready, my breasts heaving with every breath. I watched him as he climbed onto the bed, his pace as slow as a panther's prowl, eyes lock on my flushed body. He took me in from trembling toes to my quivering bottom lip, his gaze going from hard disciplinarian to concentrated lover in an instant.

He bent toward me, his lips grazing the skin on curve of my right foot. He placed small kisses along my calf and up my thigh, his tongue darting out now and then to tease my body even further. I didn't move, didn't squeak a sound. I just watched his careful movements, reveling in the sensations his mouth brought me.

As he worked his way up, pausing just above my slick, pulsing core, he whispered one final command.

"Don't. Move."

His tongue was first to taste me, his lips following quickly after. He lapped at me, sending the pulsing threads of electricity creeping across my limbs and down my torso. My fingertips twitched with need to grab the sheets, the mattress, anything to keep me grounded in position he'd demanded: spread wide, my Consorts mouth attached to my dripping sex like he was drinking from the fountain of youth. Despite the nagging desire, I kept still. Only the movement of my chest as I breathed gave any indication that I was riding along the edge of an incredible orgasm, and yet my Consort persisted on challenging my limits.

His hands traveled the expanse of my abdomen, his fingertips teasing me as if he was reading Braille etched into my skin. He reached for my breasts, his hands teasing and twisting my budded peaks, adding a sting to the exquisite torment his mouth was producing. I had an urge to move, to arch my body in order to present my breasts to him as if on an alter. And yet, I didn't. I kept to my training, steady in my determination. And my Consort seemed to feel that was when the true torture would begin.

"This is what I want from you," he growled into my sex. "You dripping for me, hot and slick. Deliciously dirty and ready to fuck."

His words spawned the ache inside of me to another level, urging my hips to move, making my fingers itch to grab his head and push his mouth further into me. I held my steady position, my teeth clamping shut against the strong impulse to move despite his direct order not to.

I could feel my orgasm building deep within me; spiraling and tensing, clenching and quivering, I fought for control. I slowed my breath and I closed my eyes against the sensations, trying to keep my mind occupied with something other than the fact the man of my dreams was between my legs, coaxing the greatest climax I'd ever had. My toes wanted to curl yet I kept them still; my head wanted to lull to the side but I kept it centered. Most of all, I wanted to scream his name, beg for him to release me from this blessed torment, yet I kept silent.

Obedient.

Subservient.

"God, this is beautiful," I heard him say, his fingers rubbing my clit as he pulled back away from my center. "You are beautiful."

He alternated from my throbbing, engorged nub, to plunging those teasing fingers deep into my pussy, curling upward to entice me further. I could feel his eyes on me, watching his fingers move, gauging my body's response to his play.

"I'm going to take you now," he told me without preamble. I could feel him jostling on the bed, and despite the fact that my orgasm would be that much harder for me to restrain, I had to see him. My eyes flew open to see him kneeling before me, his entire form completely nude, encased in corded muscles and sinew. The ink on his skin offered a heady contrast to his flushed appearance, each design strategically placed to accent the curves of his beautiful body. His thick erection stood proudly in front of him, and I choked back a moan at the sight.

He slid between my legs, his body going horizontal, perpendicular to mine. I could feel his arm snake beneath my lower back, angling my hips toward his.

"Don't scream," he told me with a wicked smirk before pushing into me balls deep. My body locked down, every nerve igniting. He was relentless, merciless, as he continued to pound into my swollen, tight channel. I wanted to scream, I wanted to pull my hair and shout and clamp down on him until my eyesight disappeared altogether. His warm lips clamped down on my breast, his teeth pulling on me to point of pain. And yet, I remained silent. He thrust his hips upward, the tip of his cock hitting that place deep inside me that had me riding the precipice, and still, I did not let go.

My Consort was above me, sweat covering both our bodies, making for a delicious lubricant as he slid along me with ever move he made.

In the next moment, just as I was about to give in to the delicious call of my release, I felt his fist wind into my hair. He tugged my head back, exposing my neck. His lips were on my soft skin, right below my pulse.

"I can feel it inside you, my Betty," he whispered, his hips unrelenting in their steady, pounding beat. "The power, the beauty. It's building, climbing. Do you want to let it go? Do you want to scream as it rips through you?"

My only response was a shuddered breath, but he must have taken it as a yes. He sat back onto his haunches, his hands surrounding the swell of my hips as he lifted me onto his lap: a perfect angle for deep penetration.

"Now," he told me as he thrust forward, sinking into me and sending my orgasm rippling through.

"Fuck…" he growled his pace becoming more urgent, desperate, as he plowed right through my release and sending me into the edges of another one. "Yes. Fuck, yes."

I could feel his movement stutter, every inch of his muscles tense. His own release was coming, and now that I could move at my leisure, I wanted to send him not only over that edge, but soaring over it. I widened my hips, bringing him deeper into me. Pushing into him, I felt a rumble of power emanate inside of him, starting with a deep growl inside his chest. His eyes locked onto mine and with one final plunge, he jetted into me, the intense groan of pleasure from him sending me into my own spiral.

We both collapsed into a sated mess, the mix of sweat and fluids filling the air around us. My eyes closed by their own accord, and I could feel the bed move slightly as he crawled to lay beside me. I felt his hand wrap around my waist and my eyes flew open to meet his.

"Tomorrow?" he asked, and for the first time, I sensed some type of apprehension, as if I'd tell him no.

"Tomorrow, Sire," I agreed. I saw a satisfied smile curve his lips, and with a final sigh, he closed his eyes.

"Call me Seth."

* * *

**AN: Betty should be back on schedule. Thanks for all of you who read Sing For Me Sweet. It was a work from the heart and I met a great many of you through that story. **


	21. The Cheater

**Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization.©2011 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to Candycanesfly! You are bomb-diggily;)**

* * *

The Cheater

~ Edward Masen ~

"Why do men cheat?"

Aro was sitting by the large fire, puffing on his pipe. English blended tobacco smoke shifted through the air, mixing with the question he'd offered for us to ponder. While the other men watched our surprise guest with rapt attention, Aro's presence in the Consort meeting came of little shock to me.

Often we'd have former Consorts presenting their wisdom like a coveted guest speaker, offering advice on how to culture our untamed natures into that of a well-rounded lover.

Aro Volturi just happened to be from the original founding family tree, so the atmosphere was a little tense. Each man harbored some sort of deference for the man; I just saw him as an overindulged counselor.

This was the part of the program I hated the most: the psych evaluation. And since this was my third time through it, these conversations were becoming a bit repetitive.

"Because we can," Mike mumbled through a mouth filled with potato chips. I grimaced, looking at him in disgust.

_Why is he always eating?_

"For the adventure of it?" Jacob offered, his asinine answer sounding more like a question.

"Adventure…" Aro's voice trailed off, his expression pensive. The older man took a great pull on his pipe before posing yet another question. "Can I ask how you think it is an adventure to hurt a woman, Jacob?"

"That's not what I meant," Jacob bristled, standing from his place on the couch to refill his snifter with three fingers of whiskey. The crystal decanter clinked on the glass as he clarified. "I was talking about the excitement, the thrill, and the risk. Some men are into that kind of thing."

"Maybe those men should invest in a pain room," Seth chuckled, earning a few grunts of agreement.

"You bring up a valid point," Aro agreed, nodding to Seth as if his comment was full of wisdom and not a joke. The men sobered, waiting for the elder Cullen to continue. "Do you think a man would be less likely to cheat if he added some spice in his sex life?"

"No," I answered, my tone somber. "If it's in a person's nature then they will regardless. Some are just built that way, and there's no changing it, no matter how much we want to dissect it down to a baser rationale."

"Spoken like a true woman scorned," Emmett cajoled, raising his own glass of whiskey in mock salute. He'd been asked to sit in on our meeting to serve as some sort of Consort liaison, but I knew it was because he and Rosalie were having their own issues and Carlisle made him attend.

It seemed my brother's interest in one of the girls hadn't gone unnoticed by his girlfriend, and though Rosalie liked to play with the 'Vag' from time to time, Emmett was strictly hers. I didn't know what he was supposed to get out of this, but perhaps the topic of conversation wasn't by accident. I glared at him, my mind spinning with troubling implications.

"It's a fact," I growled, pissed off by his sheer presence. "Some people will cheat just because they can. And there is no rhyme or reason to it, there's no psychoanalyzing it. It just happens. Once a cheater, always one, isn't that how it goes?"

"Eddie, you can't keep that chip of expectation on your shoulder forever," he stated bluntly, pushing off the wall he was leaning against and coming towards me like he had an argument brewing in his britches.

"Shut the fuck up," I growled through clenched teeth, not wanting to air out some of my own dirty laundry in front of these fuck heads. A hard expression told my asshole brother that if he pushed me on this topic, I'd unleash his own past; including the current reason he was in this meeting. Emmett shrugged, letting it go for now, but I couldn't ignore the questioning stares from my fellow Consorts. I took a seat on the worn leather couch, my face set in a stern expression as Aro tried to direct the conversation back on topic.

"Some would say that the male species is essentially designed to cheat," Aro said, gesturing toward me as if agreeing with a point I'd made. That hadn't been my intent, but I wasn't going to interrupt him. Let him turn my private disagreement with my brother into a debate, I didn't give a shit.

Aro continued. "In fact, some scientists believe that it is part of our genetic make up; that wanting to plant our "seed" in as many viable, bred-worthy hosts is just an evolutionary pull to pass on our own genes."

"Well that just makes us sound like a bunch of unintelligent apes now, doesn't it," Seth replied in his smooth tone. He sat on the plush leather couch, sipping on his wine glass with his foot lying atop his knee. I would have called him a pansy, but on him, it made him look more masculine. "Personally, I think that is a load of shit. If evolution gave me the drive to cheat, it also gave me forethought not to follow through on my impulses. I'd say the sense of ethics and morality negates that argument outright."

"Awe, the right of choice," Aro chimed, his expression alight. He looked to Seth, gesturing for Seth to continue his though process.

"If you want to make this into a discussion about genetics, then I would say it's an invalid argument." Seth uncrossed his legs and set his empty glass onto the side table. "The conscience comes into play. I, for one, know how much it hurts not only the woman, but each and every person involved when someone steps out on a relationship."

"I think we can all agree that not much thinking regarding the consequences is involved in the decision making process," Aro stated blandly, pausing to take another draw from his pipe. A fine haze of smoke covered the room. The way the light from the fire fell upon it made it seem like a thickening fog, adding a sense of foreboding to the already uptight atmosphere.

"I would agree with that," Jacob muttered, shooting down the rest of his whiskey and making a motion to refill his glass once more. He stopped when Aro shot him a disapproving glance. Apparently, he didn't want us all snockered for his pearl of wisdom speech. I grinned, bringing my own amber liquid up to tingle against my lips as it went down my gullet. Jacob cleared his throat before he continued.

"When a woman approaches a man, giving him the attention he craves and lacks at home, he's going to go for it regardless if he's in a relationship or not," Jake stated bluntly, his expression narrowed like he was figuring out a complicated problem.

"Egos…" Aro pondered, and I rolled my eyes when his gaze travelled to the ceiling like he was looking for the answers among the stars. This was so lame.

"If someone is making a commitment to another person, regardless if the attention they receive from that person is stilted due to comfort with each other over time, shouldn't that sense of duty keep that person from cheating?" Seth asked in his smooth tone, lacking any emotion. I knew from his history, however, that his father had left his mother for another woman, leaving her alone with him and his sister, Leah. This wasn't just a debate for him, but something incredibly personal. Yet he was keeping a tight lid on his emotions, something he must have mastered at some point in his life.

"It should," Mike replied, his cheeks filled with un-chewed food. "But it doesn't half the time. I think that decision boils down to a sense of honor and integrity, which is learned from our parents. Dude, were your parents loyal to each other? It sounds like you were taught right."

Seth didn't answer. He became stoic all of a sudden. I could see his guard flash up, but his mouth curved into a petulant smile.

"Mike, lay off," Jake muttered under his breath, knowing what his cousin had been through.

"What?" Mike asked, oblivious. "I'm just agreeing with Seth, man. He's right."

"How is this supposed to help us become better lovers again?" Jacob directed toward Aro, taking the attention away from Seth and Mike for the time being. I could see Seth's posture relax a bit out of the corner of my eye, and I turned a questioning glance to Aro. He smiled kindly, his demeanor giving off a placating aura like he knew something that none of us were privileged to.

"I was tempted a couple of times in my life," Aro murmured, his eyes glazing over, seeing a memory in his mind that prompted his sudden confession. "I think everyone is at some point: both men and women. But my decision came down to a simple fact. What I had at home far outweighed any simple pleasure those women would bring me."

We all stared at him for a moment, trying to understand where his thought process was going. I pictured his wife, Heidi. She was an older woman with the elegance and refinement of Grace Kelly. I could tell that she carried a timeless beauty, one that would hold any man's attention. Despite that fact, I admired the man for keeping his dangly sword in his pants as long as he had. Even with a creature like that at home, some in his position would be more than tempted to stray if a younger, finer specimen came into his pasture. I knew I would be.

"I want you all to think of the young women with you in this program," Aro said firmly, his strong voice echoing along the walls, changing the dynamic of the room to more serious in nature. My thoughts travelled immediately to Bella, and a smile curved my mouth at the image of her spread out beneath me just last night. God, she'd felt amazing.

I looked up, seeing similar smirks on the other faces around the room. Only Emmett stood by the fire, his expression tight and brooding. It didn't look right on him somehow, and I wondered who occupied his thoughts: Rosalie, or his mysterious Betty.

"Each of these women is beautiful beyond compare, eager and willing to learn the finer arts of sexual gratification," Aro continued, earning a couple crude grunts of agreement from the men in the room. "Unbeknownst to them, they are being cultivated by this program to create suitable mates to you boneheads, but I suggest you take a look at the bigger picture. None of you will find a more perfect match than who you are mated to at the Cullen Mansion: personality compatibility, sexual prowess, or in intellectual stimulation. You will never be lacking, nor find a temptation that will surpass what is before you. It's a fact that has been tried and tested many times, and has never failed in the history of the Cullens. It was why our forefathers started this program."

I grimaced, the heady reminder of our dishonesty with the Betties not sitting right with me for the first time. Perhaps it was my blooming maturity or the fact that I myself had felt deceived, but bile churned in my stomach, stealing my attention away from Aro's asinine logic. I didn't have to worry about challenging him, however. Emmett did it for me.

"Nothing better?" Emmett scoffed, his eyes narrowing. It seemed he'd forgotten his place as a Consort liaison, and was taking an active role in today's discussion. "Explain to me how temptation happens during the program if it's so easy a fix with a perfectly matched mate."

"I never said that there wouldn't be temptation," Aro argued, slightly taken aback. "I only said that I'd never seen a mating fail. Our methods are precise and insurmountable. To cheat would be to lose the other half of your soul, and it would be the deepest regret any of you would ever have."

Part of my soul, I scoffed, fighting every urge to roll my eyes. I thought it was ironic he felt that way, seeing as we were basically sleeping with every unclaimed pussy these people could find until we took one for our own. It was foolish logic.

I'd been through this, and every time I was introduced to the women who were supposed to be implicitly matched for me, it didn't happen. To me, there were no guarantees. That's what I'd learned through this fucked up program, not that I was destined to be with the one they'd find. It was bullshit, in my opinion.

Images of Bella came to my mind for a brief second, of her smiling and laughing in the hidden glimpses I'd stolen throughout the last week, but I pushed them aside. I couldn't deny that she had been an automatic interest in the beginning for me, but she was here for only one purpose, and I had to remember that. She wasn't here to find a mate, but to get fucked, pure and simple. Her agenda was the same as the countless women who'd graced these halls, who'd slept in those rooms, and fucked through those mirrors. Why would she be any different? I didn't expect her to be.

I let my mind stew in the negative while the others continued their discussion. I tried to keep my thoughts away from the direction they were going: back to a year ago, when I'd come here with promises that were broken at the end of six months.

Jane had been everything Aro had described earlier: gorgeous, intelligent, and incredibly skilled in the bedroom. From our first meeting, she'd caught my attention. She'd held it through our many late night conversations, and despite her training in the program, we'd spend most of our time together, making a silent agreement that our experimentation would be limited to each other, or so I believed.

I evaluated myself back then, naive, gullible, wanting to trust in the dream the founders of the program had believed in. She'd fucked that all up for me, hadn't she, that scantless shrew. Jane couldn't let the erotic fantasy go; the one where she'd come to play with no strings attached. She had to have her cake, didn't she; even if the program was over, she dumped me like corroded leftovers. Yet, I stuck around to go through it all again.

I was a moron. I shouldn't have done this again, despite the bargain Carlisle had made me. It was going to happen again, one way or the other. My faceless dream girl would leave me, or I'd do it to her. Jane broke me of that fantasy, and I'd stolen it from Bree six months later. Call me a fucked up deliverer of Karma or a fucking asshole, it wasn't anything I didn't know about myself.

"Hey," I heard Emmett grumble, and I looked up to see everyone leaving our little man huddle. I guessed I'd missed the tail end of a stimulating discussion about nothing but bullshit.

_Oh well… _

"Hey," I responded, pulling myself from the couch, wanting to get out of the stale tobacco smelling room, thanks to Aro's selfish indulgence. My lungs would be dying tomorrow from the second-hand cancer he'd subjected us to.

"I'm sorry….you know…for earlier." Emmett stumbled through the apology, causing me to gauge his sincerity. The expression he gave me was complacent, and I felt the anger rise inside of me once again at the accusation in his eyes.

"How's Rosalie?" I asked, my tone mocking and defiant. He knew it was a challenge, a question to the reasoning he was there. Emmett's posture straightened, becoming defensive.

"She's fine," he answered brusquely, his words clipped.

"Good," I smiled. "Wouldn't want her to be unhappy."

"Edward," he warned.

"I know why you were there, Emmett. It's just more proof how fucked up this place is, right?"

"Don't do that, Edward."

"Do what?" I shoved past him indignantly. Emmett grabbed my arm, stopping my retreat and sparking an inferno of rage inside my veins.

"Rosalie and I are fine. Don't make my wandering eyes be the reason you throw this opportunity away."

"Opportunity? Sure..." I scoffed, my eyes closing to hide the frustration. "Why would you feel the need to look at any of these women, Em, if you and Rosalie are A-okay?"

"They're beautiful, Ed. Of course I'd look, just like Rosie drools over a hot guy or girl she sees. We may have some new issues about her bringing a Betty into our bedroom, but we're dealing with it."

"Is this about Bella?" I asked, my eyes flashing open to gauge his reaction. It was important to me for some reason, like my inner demon was ready to tear him a new one if his answer was yes.

"Eddie, you saw her with Rosie, man. You have to admit that was the most erotic shit - Hey, fucker! What's your problem, son?"

I shoved him against the wall, his breath coming out in a whoosh when his head hit the hard surface. He looked at me incredulously before his eyes narrowed in challenge.

"Don't," I said, my tone flat. It was a warning as much as a threat, and Emmett looked at me for a moment, his blue eyes reflecting his confusion.

"So it's her," he murmured, and his words jolted me. I took a step away from him, seeing my actions for what they were. I was staking my claim in front of another male. What the Hell was I doing?

"Em..."

He laughed wryly, stunted humor not reaching his eyes. He held a hand up to me as if to ward me off, not having a reason to apologize.

"You have your work cut out for you," he chuckled, his cryptic retort sending my guard up again.

"Whatever," I answered, attempting nonchalance. My expression dropped a couple levels, heading more toward a catatonic indifference rather than the rage monster it'd been seconds ago. "It's not like that with her. I just don't want you to hurt Rosalie."

"Let me worry about my Rosie," Emmett replied, clamping his massive hand on my shoulder, the force of it like a Mack truck colliding with my numb body. "You have enough to deal with on your own."

"What do you mean?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to hear his reply. Emmett smiled at me; a sickly sweet curve of his lips, looking more like the cat that ate the cream, then fed on the canary as an afterthought. He patted me lightly on the back as he passed me, leaving me alone in the smoke filled room, drowning in anger, frustration, and bitterness.

A soft tinkle of laughter flitted in through the hallway, and I pulled myself out of the pit of misery and confusion I'd been left in. Walking out of the room, the musky smell of tobacco clung to me like flies on shit, making me yearn for a hot shower and a warm shot of Amaretto. It was just the thing I needed to wake me out of my funk, but as I took the first steps toward my suite, I saw the source of the girly laughter.

"I hope I get the chance to take control like Carmen did," Jessica was saying, her eyes alight with lust and anticipation. She was talking animatedly to two other women with her but I couldn't see the third. She was around the corner, blocked by the wall. It didn't matter; the atmosphere was thick with expectation, and I wondered what spawned their topic of conversation. "The way she held him at her mercy, jeez, I don't think I've ever seen anything more erotic!"

Ah... I guessed they had a session with Madam Carmen and her pain slut. No wonder they were dripping with female dominance and excitement. Perfect.

"I don't know," a silky feminine voice replied. The unknown Betty, I mused. "I think I'd be a little turned off by a man I could control like that."

"How was he last night?" a beautiful brunette asked. Angela, I remembered her name to be.

"He..." the unseen Betty paused as if shy, and it piqued my interest. "He kept me aware of every part of my body, playing me, keeping my synapses high with anticipation. He was in control, but in a weird way, so was I. He showed me what my body was capable of, and it turned me on more than his submission ever could."

_Bella? _

I inched my way closer, her silhouette coming into view. She stood with her back against the wall, a pink hue tinting her cheeks. Her eyes were cast downward in embarrassment, and she never looked more beautiful.

"Mmmm, he sounds amazing," Jessica purred, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull. Bella's eyes snapped to her friend, her expression pensive before she nodded her head in agreement.

"Are you going to except another invitation from him?" Angela asked. She'd been watching Bella's reactions closely, gauging her words carefully.

"Um, I don't know," Bella replied. "I mean, it's okay if I do, right? I won't get kicked out or anything if I spent another night with him, will I?"

"No," I heard myself say, and all three women turned to look at me, shocked by my apparent eavesdropping.

"Hi, Edward," Jessica smiled, stepping in front of Bella and blocking my view. "Fancy meeting you here. Do the Consorts often hide in the dark to overhear what the Betties think of them, or is it just a habit of yours?"

I chuckled, giving her my signature slanted smile as I took a step closer.

"Do you mind if I have a moment with Bella. In private," I clarified when she didn't answer, only stared a me slack-jawed.

"S-sure," Angela stammered, grabbing Jessica's arm and pulling her along the hallway reluctantly.

"That was really classy of you," I heard Bella snap, and I turned to see her flushed expression glaring at me. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands were on her supple hips — the perfect picture of female indignation.

"Don't be embarrassed," I told her through a chuckle. I liked seeing her flustered because of me.

"I'm not," she said huffily, her cute little chin rising in defiance. "You're just lucky I didn't say anything unflattering. Maybe I should fill them in completely."

"Oh, really. And what disparaging attributes would you entail in this devastating confession?"

Her eyebrow rose, matching the curve of her mouth as she thought for a moment or two. She looked at me steadily, probing, and I suddenly felt naked in front of her. My confidence wavered under her scrutiny, and I swallowed hard, trying to keep my indifferent composure.

"You're too arrogant," she said blandly, her deep brown eyes watching as if assessing scum on shit. I didn't like it.

"I thought we were discussing my abilities in the bedroom, not my personality traits."

"I am," she argued, pulling me up short.

"I'm an arrogant lover?" I asked mockingly. She nodded, and my eyes narrowed. "How so?"

"You think you are the only one who can make their partner weak in the knees, to induce mind numbing pleasure."

"I think we've established that your sexual history has been somewhat lacking in the past. Isn't that right, Betty?"

"I've never had a problem pleasing my partner," she smiled wickedly, a flash of devilish charm in her eye. "Just because I'd never climaxed with sex before doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing. Just ask Rosalie."

"Hmm," I offered, not committing either way.

"Is that a challenge?" she scoffed, a teasing smile curving her beautiful mouth. I watched her for a second, weighing my options.

"I thought you didn't want a man's submission," I offered, throwing her words back at her.

"This is not about submission, but power."

"Indeed," I murmured, letting my eyes wander down her body, watching how she heated under my gaze. "Tonight, in the green room. This is your official invitation, my Betty. Do you accept?"

"Most definitely," she agreed with a tone so confident and filled with purpose that my eyes shot up to hers.

_Most definitely..._


	22. The Lover

**Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization.©2011 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to my girls! Neliz & Candy, you girls have been more than I could ask for.**

* * *

The Lover

~ Betty Pledge ~

I stood in my room, staring at my perfectly made bed covered in enticing lingerie and skimpy dresses for what felt like hours. I had no idea what to wear, which was ridiculous because I'd been dressing myself for well over twenty years now.

But still, what did one wear to a challenge that was sexual in nature? I assumed it should be something revealing, something that would make the other opponent's head spin, but for the life of me, I couldn't decide on anything.

"Looks like you could use some help," I heard a feminine voice say, and I turned to see Rosalie standing just inside my closed door. It was testament to how far lost I was in my thoughts; I hadn't even heard her come in.

"What am I doing here?" I asked, sitting on my bed in a huff as a sudden wave of self-doubt came flooding over me.

"Oh no, no, no," Rosalie replied, coming toward me quickly with a determined look on her face. "We are not doing this shit again."

"That's not what I meant." I chuckled, looking up from my hands. Rosalie looked at me, puzzled. "I meant, what am I doing? Tonight? With him again!"

"Oh," Rosalie replied, a sly smile curing her luscious lips. Her reaction made me want to growl in protest. "You're going out with Masen again." It wasn't stated as a question, and when I glanced up, Rosalie was wagging her eyebrows suggestively, channeling Emmett's care-free and horribly inappropriate personality. It was oddly funny, and I couldn't help the small giggle that escaped.

"You look like your boyfriend when you do that," I snarked, amused when she stood up and had the nerve to look offended.

"Whatever. I came in here to help you for your night and I get insulted."

"He's your boyfriend." I laughed. "Some traits of his are bound to rub off on you."

"I rather it be something more endearing rather than crude."

"I think it's cute," I retorted, smiling warmly at her.

"On him, maybe. On me, now that's just unladylike."

I snorted, not wanting to remind her that she was a Dame in a sex club. If she wanted to be a lady, perhaps she needed to find a different form of employment.

"This one," she declared a moment later, holding up a see-through, white teddy with matching stockings and garter belt.

"It doesn't leave much to the imagination," I mused, looking at the scary piece of lace with trepidation. Rosalie rolled her eyes, turning toward my closet and leaving me pondering what the hell she was up to. She came out moments later, her arms full of clothing.

She tossed her findings on the bed, pulling items apart and arranging them into carefully cultivated outfits. I stood up, watching her closely, trying to figure out her thought process.

"I don't think you get what tonight is about," I told her, watching as she put a pant suit together. The bottoms were pinstriped and just so happened to fit me like a glove. I'd tried them on once before and loved how they made my ass look. The matching white shirt was a mix between professional vixen and hot school teacher. It was white, low cut button-up, mostly see-through, but something I could totally get away with if I wore it in public. Most likely it was meant to have some sort of camisole under it, but Rosalie hadn't set one out. She left the suit jacked off to the side, leaving the bare minimum. When she was done, she turned toward me, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Ummm..." I muttered, not knowing what to say.

"You don't like it?" she asked, looking a tad hurt.

"I love it, I just don't know if it fits the theme."

"Did he tell you what to wear?" she asked, and I shook my head in response. "Than this is perfect!"

"How is a suit...suitable?" I asked. "I'm going to fuck the man, not apply for an interview."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, reaching for the items as she muttered something that sounded a lot like 'crude harpy' under her breath.

"It's a challenge, right? You have to make him desperate for you. Turn the tables?"

"How did you know that?" I asked, knowing damn well I hadn't whispered a word of my confrontation slash ridiculous challenge to Rosalie.

"Emmett," she shrugged, rolling her eyes like it had been an obvious answer.

"How did he..."

"Look, you don't have much time," Rosalie snapped, not allowing my mind to ponder long on the implication. "Do you want my help or not?"

I looked at her, frowning. The smart-ass, hard as nails Dame I'd met from the party was making a reappearance. I nodded my head, not wanting to speak to her at the moment in fear I'd snap right back at her. She took a deep breath, sitting on the bed with a sheepish look crossing her face.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I just want this to work out for you."

"It's not that big of a deal," I told her, trying to keep the anxiety from resurfacing. It wasn't something to fight with her about; I knew that much for sure.

"It is," she replied with a strange expression, not meeting my eyes. "More than you know."

"I'm pretty sure that once the clothes come off, it won't matter what I had on. I'm making a bigger problem out of this than is needed, really."

Rosalie turned to me, holding out her hand for me to sit down next to her. I moved some of the clothing over a bit to make room.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked, her features turning back to the warm, familiar friend I was growing to love.

"Anything."

"I watched your trial," she admitted, and I felt my face flush at the reminder of what I was asked to do. It wasn't that I had to do it, it was the fact that I'd been observed by multiple people that had me reddening in embarrassment. Again.

"No, you were beautiful," Rosalie admonished, her voice honest and soft. "But I think the most appealing thing to me was how absolutely confident you were with yourself. You didn't result to risque clothing or items to help you get off. It was you and your skin, that's it."

"What does that have to do with tonight?" I asked, truly curious where she was going with it, besides making my anxiety level jump up a notch or two.

"I think that if you went in there, covered from head to foot, leaving as much to his imagination as possible, you'd have him like putty in your hands."

I smiled, looking back at the outfit she'd laid out for me.

"What about the lace teddy?" I asked, my lips curving in a slight smile.

"Well..." Rosalie sighed, reaching for the object in question. "This will just make him drool once he gets the covers off. Adds to his sexual frustration once he sees there's another layer to remove."

"Diabolical," I laughed, taking the lace out of her hand.

"You better believe it..."

~:O:TBC:O:~

In the next hour and a half, I'd been showered, shaved, buffed, powdered, and creamed, all done by Rosalie.

Well, not that kind of creamed.

Slathered in lotion and thoroughly exfoliated.

Preparing for an all out sexual war happened to be tough business, and since our waxing appointment wasn't until the following week, my evil yet completely competent Dame had coaxed me into letting her wax me herself based on the fact that she'd seen all my girlie bits up close and personal already. I didn't care, as long as I was adequately smooth, I would be a happy kitten.

Literally.

But now, standing just inside the silent Green Room, watching Edward lean against the brick fireplace with a snifter of Brandy in his hand, looking ominous and brooding, I felt perhaps my hard work was all for naught.

"Hi," I said in a hushed tone, feeling a little out of place. As of that moment, he had yet to acknowledge my presence.

I noticed he wore the same outfit I'd seen him in earlier: dark denim jeans, black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows. The muscles in his forearms tensed, rigid and corded with strength and sinew. He didn't look up at me, just remained staring unseeingly into the fire.

"Am I early?" I asked in an uncomfortable chuckle, the soft click of my ridiculously expensive, six inch white and black heels clicking on the hardwood flooring as I took a tentative step closer. He didn't move, didn't react and I suddenly found myself feeling like my presence was unwanted.

"I owe you an apology," he muttered toward the fire, his lack of response to my question making me more anxious.

"For what?" I asked, trying to keep my tone less defensive than I felt. I didn't think I was successful, however, for he finally lifted his head, meeting my worried gaze.

His eyes traveled over my body briefly, taking in my attire — a pathetic attempt at portraying an alluring yet unavailable sexual goddess. In that moment, I was extremely grateful I hadn't worn anything more revealing. If he didn't want me, I was sure that standing in front of him in nothing but the lace teddy would have added a couple notches to the awkward meter.

"It wasn't fair for me to listen in on your conversation," he answered, pushing off the fireplace and taking a sip of his Brandy, walking a couple steps closer to me. God, he looked good, in that James Dean, brooding kind of way. His dark lines and smooth movements made me heat up inside. I wanted him.

"Don't worry about it," I shrugged, taking another step toward him, trying for a relaxed nonchalance, despite my rampant, pounding heart. "I should've known better. In this place there's always someone watching, or that's what I've been told."

I didn't miss the small glance Edward made to the large gilded mirror above the four poster bed, although he tried to cover it up by turning to place his drink down in that line of site. I watched his posture stiffen slightly as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You don't look like you're up for this tonight," I told him, figuring it was best to lay out all our cards. "We could call it off. No hard feelings."

"No... No," he answered automatically, running a hand through his unruly hair. "It's just... I feel like I'm doing you a disservice, fucking you like I have."

I was shocked, and a little taken aback. A _disservice_? Really?

"You're not, believe me."

"I am," he retorted sharply, turning to sit on the edge of the bed, looking like he was contemplating the end of his life or some shit. I didn't get it, but I didn't interrupt, waiting for him to explain himself.

"This isn't supposed to be about just sharing our bodies with each other. It shouldn't be, anyway."

I was confused. What the hell was he talking about?

"What else should it be about?"

"I don't want to use you." Edward looked up at me then, his eyes full of an unknown emotion. Fear? Perhaps he was afraid of rejection, of failing the challenge we'd made. It wasn't that big of a deal to me, but it seemed to really bother him.

"You're not using me, Edward," I told him softly, coming closer to him to sit on the bed. "We're learning from each other."

"Learning..." he scoffed, letting the word trail off like it was a curse.

"Yes. Isn't that the purpose of the club! It's why you joined, right? To find and explore the different avenues our bodies could take us and how to find the greatest pleasure? Believe me, I had a hard time working through the rationale myself, but once you take out the emotion —"

"But that's it, Bella," Edward growled suddenly, standing up from the bed and towering over me as a torment of conflicting expressions clouded his face. "The emotion is there regardless. It's a complete straw man."

"Straw man?"

"Shouldn't emotion be involved when two people are joined in such an intimate way? Shouldn't there be more to it than just two sweaty bodies, meeting and forging, pumping and devouring?"

"You lost me at sweaty bodies..." I muttered, ignoring my verbal filter apparently. I couldn't help but be lost in how magnificently delicious he looked in his heated conflict; pacing before me, resembling a caged tiger, all silken lines and hard muscle.

"Be serious, Bella," he admonished, glaring at me without stopping his heady movements.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I just don't get why you're upset!" I laughed, standing up from the bed and putting my hands on my hips. I could tell this sex-filled night was screwed six ways to shit, and not in a good way. Opting for humor to save face, I decided to give him a hard time, rather than think about what he was saying.

"I'm not upset," he argued, the sound of his objection coming from deep in his throat, like a snarl. I laughed.

"Oh no, I can tell you're totally chilled out. Look, if you don't want to do this tonight, there's no problem. I shouldn't have pushed you like I did."

"Pushed me?" he asked, pausing in his actions to level me with a hard glare. It was every bit as harsh and animalistic as his stature, and I felt my lips curve in a challenging smile, liking this dark, conflicting side of him.

"Well, it seems you are having a little," I cleared my throat gently, "anxiety about tonight. You don't have to let me fuck you, Masen. I'm sure I could find another way to pass my time."

"Bella," he warned his voice a menacing growl.

"Don't 'Bella' me, Masen. I come in here, dripping wet, willing to hump you into oblivion, and you decide play philosopher. Excuse me if I'm a little...snarky."

Edward took two quick steps toward me, his body up against mine before I could take a breath.

"I'm only concerned for you!" he shouted.

"Don't be. I'm a big girl. I know what I signed up for."

"You don't have a fucking clue."

"Really? Enlighten me, then."

"It's not good for you."

"I think I can tell what's good for me." And then, I was kissing him. His lips on mine were demanding and urgent. His hands exploring, desperate to find what he was searching for. I was just as wanton, just overtaken by him — his smell, his body, his sexual hunger that awakened every single cell inside me.

"Is this how it's going to be between us?" I asked against his jaw, my hands working frantically to rid him of his buttoned shirt. "A game? Who can make who cum first?"

"See, that's your problem," he panted, grabbing the hem of my shirt out of my pants and whipping it over my head, taking one of my earrings off with it. "You think of your body as a means to an end."

"No, I don't!" I argued, taking his earlobe into my mouth.

"Ugh... yes you do. That's been your MO for years."

"Explain," I demanded on a moan, the heady sound inspired by his warm hands, running up my ribcage, heading toward my swollen, lace-covered breasts.

"There's no feelings," he growled, bending me back slightly so he could get a better view of my body. "God, Bella. What are you wearing?"

His lips found my collar bone on a sigh, his teeth teasing, his lips tasting as his hands roamed the white teddy. I could feel the warmth of his skin through the miniscule lace, and a huge part of me wished I'd just gone bare beneath my librarian suit. Quicker access, and all that.

"No, I want to see you," I whispered on a suppressed moan when Edward tried to lead me to the bed. His body tensed, the muscles of his revealed chest and abdomen hardening as my hands explored down his torso, edging toward the bulge in his pants. "Now, you see? I think I have plenty of feelings when I'm with you."

"Mmmm, you know that's not what I'm talking about," he growled as my hands gripped his hard length firmly. "Emotions, Bella."

"They come into play later," I argued, dropping to my knees in order to view him all the better, my hands working frantically to unleash him. I worked his zipper quickly, pulling the tough fabric down his fabulous legs, leaving him only in his boxer briefs. The hard length of him stood in silhouette beneath the thin fabric, hard and proud, full and thick. I traced it slowly with the tip of my finger, fascinated that it seemed to swell.

"Don't fucking tease it," Edward barked through clenched teeth, and I couldn't help but giggle at his desperation.

"See? Emotions _are _here. For example, I'm sensing a little humor mixed with an extreme sense of power right now. How 'bout you?" I glanced up at him through my lashes, a teasing smile on my lips. He glared at me with dark, lust filled eyes, his hands clenched in fists at his sides, every line of him as rigid as his sex.

"You know that's not what I meant," he barked, but didn't elaborate any further as I swiftly pulled down his briefs, leaving his length bobbing in front of my salivating mouth.

"What, you mean love?" I asked, my tongue peaking out to lick his tip on the 'L'. I glanced up at him as he let out a heady moan, and my lips curved in anticipation.

"No," he ground out, his arms shaking at his sides as if he had to fight to restrain himself. I knew he wanted to grab my hair, to push my face into his groin so that he could fuck my hot mouth. But his words and the point he was trying to make kept him leashed, wanting to conclude his asinine argument.

I didn't care.

I was hot, horny, and wanted him there with me. Fuck the emotion. Give me passion and a toe-curling orgasm. The rest will come later.

Much later...

"God...Bella," Edward moaned as I engulfed him completely, taking the round, plum head of him all the way to the back of my throat.

I worked my tongue around him, creating a vortex, sucking him in. He couldn't fight it anymore, and his hand fisted into my hair, holding me down onto his girth as his back arched slightly. The muscles in his ass solidified and undulated with his slightly thrusting hips. I couldn't help but to reach for the silken strength, feeling both cheeks move beneath my hands, urging him forward as my mouth consumed him.

"Ah...stop..." he groaned, one hand feebly trying to push my shoulder away while the other still held my head firmly. My answering 'no' came in the form of my tongue swirling around the velvet skin encasing his steel rod. He tasted like eroticism and male heat: spicy, silken, with a hint of musk.

"Bella..." His tone a warning and swear in one, and I felt my legs spread in response. I'd never cursed a pair of pants so much in my life. I wanted to be open so that either my hand or his could play with my girl, making her wet and ready for once Edward's dick recovered, for I had no intention of stopping until he was good and spent.

"Stop!" he growled suddenly, pushing me off him. I fell back onto my bottom, my lips giving a little smack as I was forced off his superb erection.

"What the hell is your problem?" I asked, wiping my mouth with the pad of my thumb. Edward turned from me, gloriously naked and firm. Every inch of him was corded and thick, and I eye fucked his body from the floor.

God, I was turning into a freakin' pervert. And I didn't care.

"I was trying to have a conversation with you," Edward swore, his back turned to me so I couldn't see his expression.

"And I was trying to fuck you," I retorted, slowly standing from my position and glaring at him in anger and heated desire. God, I wanted him now. "That's what we are here for, isn't it?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what, Edward?" My voice was soft, alluringly sexy. I took a small step forward, my hands releasing the metal clasp of my pants. "If you wanted to have a get-to-know you conversation before we fornicated you shouldn't have taken me into that bathroom at the party." I moved my hips from side to side, pushing the tight pin-stripped slacks to the ground. I stepped out of them, taking another step toward him. "That was your opportunity for niceties and polite 'how-do-you-dos'. Instead you lead me to believe you wanted to know my body more. Now we're here, and I do believe a challenge was issued. So far, I think I'm winning."

"You —" His words were cut off in his throat when he whirled around to glare at me, seeing me in my revealing undergarment. He swallowed convulsively, and I had never felt more attractive or powerful with another man in my life.

"If you don't want me, I'll leave," I told him, taking another step closer. "If you want to have a conversation with me, I'll gladly have tea time with you tomorrow morning." I ran my hands up his bare chest, my nails leaving a trail of fine scratches in my wake. "Right now, I don't want to hear you talking. No more excuses or rationales. Kiss me."

And he did. With a great exhaled breath, Edward enveloped me in his arms and kissed me passionately. His hands didn't roam, his pelvis didn't thrust into me, but his lips made love to me thoroughly and completely.

His pace was slow yet fervent, his desire unbridled yet pensive, like he was expressing something to me. Perhaps since I wouldn't allow his words their due, he settled for telling me with his body. I could handle that.

Edward's hands cupped my face reverently, the pads of his fingers feeling warm and smooth upon my skin. His head tilted and suddenly the pace of his kiss felt more hurried, hungrier. His tongue danced with mine, tangled and caressed, hinting to things left unsaid things between us.

Before I could react, he bent down to lift me below my bottom, and my legs automatically wrapped around his waist. He spun and laid me out on the bed, his lips leaving mine to travel down my neck. His hands traveled down the length of the lacy lingerie, trailing along my ribs, heading toward where I wanted him the most.

He reached my white lace thong and groaned into the crook of my neck, his fingers heading beneath the small piece of fabric.

"You are so ready for me," he moaned, and all I could do was nod vaguely in response. With a quick motion, Edward ripped the panties off me, and within a moment, he was sheathed completely inside of me. My back arched off the mattress, my head fell back and my eyes closed against the overpowering sensation. The feeling of being completely filled and stretched making my a cry catch in my throat.

"God... you are so beautiful," Edward whispered, and my eyes opened to see him staring at me while he set a steady pace. His movements against me had me moaning and panting. Every part of me was heightened to the point of exploding.

His head bent down so that his lips could wrap around one of my nipples, my breasts having escaped from the low-cut top by Edward's pushes within me.

As his mouth devoured me, I ran my hands up and down his taut back, feeling the muscles working to bring up both to completion, enjoying eachother's bodies until we were left in a puddle of pleasure and euphoria.

"Edward...oh god...yes"

"Bella..." he whispered against my skin, he voice reverent and pleading. He was close, and so was I.

A spiraling heat began low in my abdomen, my muscles fluttering, tensing, preparing to explode. Edward sat up onto his haunches, grabbing my thighs to pull me closer, going further within me.

"Do you feel that?" he asked me with a thrust into my core, reaching deep. "Or is it a blank void? Nothing there but your body's natural response?"

"I feel it, Edward," I told him, my spine elongating as the orgasm swarmed inside me. My body began moving more urgently against his, seeking, thriving to reach its peak.

"No," he growled. "You don't. You feel only what you allow yourself to feel."

"I feel you," I answered, my eyes watering against the strong sensations. "Deep inside me. Filling me. Oh god..."

My muscles clamped down around him, the floodgates opening, releasing the built up energy until I was left seizing and contorting, my voice nothing but a mix of unintelligible words.

I heard Edward swear as he jolted above me, his movements sharp and sporadic as he found his goal. God, he was angelic in his climax: hard lines, strength and power, gloriously masculine.

He fell on top of me, spent, his face falling onto the crook of my neck.

"You speak of sex with emotion, and God, I've wanted that for so long," I told him, my breath coming out in pants. Edward lifted his head to look at me, a mixture of emotion in his eyes, weary of my words.

"But I hide my emotions here to protect myself. Sex with emotion is something I want desperately, Edward, but how stupid would I be to hand it out freely, knowing that it doesn't have a place here. Outside these walls, with a man who cared for me as much as I did him, emotion would be all consuming. I'd call it making love instead of sex, because in reality, that's what it would be. Yes, it is sex now, but that is such a mundane description of what two people can do together. It's like a form of communication between our bodies, and how better to learn every language there is to offer but here?"

"I just don't want you to be hurt," he told me, the pad of his thumb wiping the moisture under my eyes.

"I won't be," I replied with a warm smile, honestly cherishing his obvious concern for me. "I know what I'm doing."

And I did.

For the most part, I was fine with what I was doing. In six months from now, when the program was completed and I was left with the experiences this place had given me...well...I'd reevaluate then. But for now, having Edward as both a concerned friend and a lover felt like I'd just won the lottery. I was content with how things were.

Peaceful.

Orgasmic.

Exciting.

And completely without Love.

* * *

**AN: The Betty Blog has been updated! Check out ALL the yummy pages in correlation to this chappie. **

**I am calling out all Betty readers! I need your HELP! **

**I've posted an Original Fic over at TWCS for their Romance Contest. I really need you guys to check it out and let me know what you think. The link is both on my profile and on the blog. **

**I'm so nervous about it but excited at the same time – a nausea induced, tachycardia with palpitations type situation. Please, help me in this really freakin' scary endeavor. **

**Thanks to busymommy, butterflybetty, Chel, and erikajo for leaving me some MUCH NEEDED love ;)**


	23. The Creep

**Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization.©2011 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to my girls! Neliz & Candy, you girls have been more than I could ask for.**

* * *

The Creep

~ Betty Pledge ~

"I'm not avoiding him..."

I stared at my image in the mirror, hair wild from my newly awakened state. I looked like a cross between a mad raccoon and a harpy looking for her next victim. I hadn't removed my make-up from the night before, which I was sure to pay for later. My naked body was wrapped in Edward's discarded black shirt. The wrinkled fabric only added to my disheveled state, and the smell of him literally seeping out of every pore on my body just added to the picture. My lips were still swollen from Edward's kisses, my body deliciously sore in all the right places.

Or wrong, depending on how you looked at it.

"I'm not avoiding him..."

In truth, I probably was. For a second time in a row I had found myself asleep in a bed that wasn't mine, next to Edward, after spending another orgasmic night together. The first time it happened, I didn't think anything of it until I'd mentioned it to the other pledges. I guessed something like that wasn't routine. For me, it had felt natural, as it had last night.

Now, looking back on it, after my speech about 'no-emotion sex', it probably wasn't the best idea. There was a distinct amount of intimacy when one shared their bed with another, and even though that bed technically wasn't 'his', we'd done more than just had a heart-to-heart on it.

_Damn..._

I knew he was probably waiting for me downstairs, wanting to talk over tea, as I'd mentioned during our pre-sex mind games. He'd mumbled something about 'see you in a bit' when I tried to make my escape this morning, but I didn't really reply. What did he want to discuss? Avoidance seemed to be easier than trying to figure out exactly what Edward tried to tell me last night.

Was he saying what I think he meant? Did he have _feelings _for me outside of the sexual desire we clearly had for one another?

God, I hoped not. It would just complicate things, make me have to rethink once again my motivation for being here, and I'd already done that countless times already. Wasn't it just my luck that once I'd resolved myself to be comfortable with my decision, something would happen to mess that up?

It wasn't that I couldn't see myself falling for Edward. In fact, there didn't seem to be anything about him I found unattractive. Even his occasional cockiness and supreme self-image was sort of appealing to me. Insecure men were never something that made me want to scream 'oh, baby, give it to me.'

But still, the Edward I saw last night was different than the one who'd pulled me into the bathroom at the costume party. One was consumed with passion and lust, the other more reserved. I couldn't tell who he really was, and part of me had no desire to. Not yet.

I turned away from my horrible image and turned on my shower, hoping the nice warm water would help my wayward thoughts sharpen into something comprehensible. Once the mirror began to fog, I figured it was warm enough and jumped in. The feeling of the water cascading down my skull, running deep into my hair was euphoric. Starting from my head and ending at my toes, the washing seemed to be a cathartic equivalent to ridding myself of the night before. I needed to start over again, take away all the conflicting bull shit and get my head back in the game.

Sooner, rather than later.

I spent the rest of the morning wrapped in a soft robe, reading my old copy of Great Expectations. The moment would've been perfect with a cup of steaming coffee, but I was too chicken shit to brave the kitchen at this point. I made a promise to myself to pick up one of those tiny coffee makers for my room. If today was any indication, there might be several times I'd want to lock myself away. Maybe a mini fridge was in order as well.

A soft tinkling echoed from my bathroom counter, and I reluctantly left my soft, downy retreat to answer my annoying phone. It was a text from Alice.

_Movie night cancelled. Meet us by the pool in 20 for lunch. Wear the black one piece - Ali_

The black one piece, I thought. How the hell did she know about that one?

"Alice..." I muttered out loud. I should've known she was the one who'd done all the shopping for my Betty wardrobe. I shot her a quick reply.

_Not sure I feel up to it – B_

_I don't care if you feel up to it. You're going – Ali_

I growled, not liking the idea. I was much more comfortable in my state of blissful oblivion, a cloud of cotton surrounding me and my mind preoccupied with the precarious adventures of Pip. That kind of drama I could handle. Seeing Edward again surrounded by bikini clad women he was probably going to fuck next week...

I didn't even want to think about that. And I wouldn't address why I didn't want to think about it. Oblivion, tis my goal and desire...

I set my phone on my night stand, stubbornly ignoring the steady chimes going off every minute or so. When the fifth one went off, followed by a hasty sixth, I knew I should answer before the pixie came barreling through my door.

_Put the book down, Bella – Ali_

_Are you ignoring me? - Ali_

_Bella! Pick up the phone! - Ali_

_You suck, do you know that? - Ali _

_I'll send Jasper up there! - Ali_

_Isabella Swan, you're making me red. I don't look good in red! - Ali _

I laughed, picturing my little friend getting all flustered by my lack of response. She never did well when someone told her 'no'. Against my better judgment, I closed by book and sent her a text back.

_I acquiesce... - B_

_I knew you would. See you in ten. - Ali_

_Hey, what happened to twenty? - B_

_Well, when you ignore me like a bitch, your time gets cut. Suck it up. Love ya! – Ali_

It took me all of three minutes to get ready. I found the black one piece – well, if you could call it that – and stepped out of my robe.

I sighed once it was on, heading to the mirror to check how I looked. The silky fabric fit me like a glove, hugging my curves without making me look like a sausage being squeezed. The top had a deep plunging neck line, landing right above my belly button. The backing was low too, resting just above the curve of my ass. It was sexy yet demure.

I had to admit, it really was comfortable. The suit wasn't like those horrible string bikinis. When I had one of those on, I constantly had to check myself, making sure a nipple hadn't escaped the flimsy covering. This cut fit my body perfectly, leaving just the right amount of skin visible, showing off my curves without looking too needy or desperate. The suit was me, and once again, I found myself grateful for Alice's good taste when it came to clothing.

I looked myself over in the mirror, satisfied and a little more confident than before. Deciding to leave my hair in the waves from my earlier shower, I swiped a little mascara on my lashes and gloss on my lips. Ready as I'd ever be, I grabbed my shades and headed out my door.

The vast expanse of the outdoor pool rivaled that of Hearst's Greek inspired oasis. The surroundings were completely white, making the blue of the water stark and bright. The edge of the pool disappeared into the horizon; making it look like the end of it fell down the high cliffs that bordered the property. There were several cabanas that housed fluffy white lounges, and several were filled with a couple of the Consorts and Mated pairs. A few of the Betties were sprinkled throughout the yard, each scantily clad in the offensive bikinis I'd earlier cursed. Of course, they all look great in theirs, seeming to have not one problem keeping their girlie bits at bay. Figured . . .

"Bella!" Jessica waved me over, an orange cocktail in her hand.

"Hey girls," I said brightly, taking the bluish looking concoction Angela handed to me without question. I took a sip as the others waited my approval. The bitter taste of Vodka barely registered amongst the sweet taste of blueberry and coconut.

"It's gorgeous out here, right?" Jess asked, scanning her environment with an appreciative eye. I followed her gaze, landing on a smaller group of Consorts sitting by a white set of table and chairs. Small beads of water glinted off bare chests, rolling enticingly down corded abdomens until finally subsiding between loosely worn board shorts. Jessica sighed.

"Yeah, gorgeous," Angela muttered, staring slack-jawed toward the half-naked men. One of them turned toward us, breaking slightly away from the group. It was Seth, and I had to say, his bare torso was quite the sight to see. His tatted skin accented every muscle, making his skin more enticing. I giggled to myself, noticing the way Angela was practically climaxing in front of me.

Seth smirked, seeing all of us looking at him like he was a triple fudge sundae we were ready to devour. He made his way toward the pool, moving slow and panther like. His muscles moved, his body contorting, accentuating every delicious line. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he ate up every minute of it.

We watched him get into the pool by the shallow end, his long arms pushing along the water to gain a slow stride. Angela sighed, and I turned back to her.

"Why don't you go in there with him? I'm sure he's up for the company"

"Shuddup," she grumbled, pushing against me slightly in jest. She rolled her eyes, taking her gaze away from Seth, all hot and wet inside the pool, for only a moment. But before I'd steadied myself from her shove, her eyes were already fixed back in his direction.

"Go," I encouraged, nudging her slightly with my arm. Angela looked at me, hesitancy in her eyes for the barest of moments. With a small smile, she finally took off her sheer coverup, revealing a gorgeous burgundy bikini, and headed toward the sparkling water.

"Oh, she's got it bad," Jessica commented. She watched Angela strut her fine self over to the pool from above the rim of her sunglasses, a smirk matching my own painted on her lips.

As we watched our friend, another pair of people enter the pool. Victoria and James, both of which were completely nude from the waist up, both had thong bottoms on, and both had each other by their nether regions as if leading each other toward the water from a short leash – one on his testicles, another on her clit.

"Oh. My. God."

"Yeah," Jessica replied in a disgusted tone. "You missed the show earlier. He had her bent over the spa, balls deep. She was meowing, I shit you not. And he was saying something like 'that's how my kitty likes that shit.'"

"You lie..." I laughed.

"Does this face look like it's lying?"

"No, you look a little green, actually."

"Still fighting down breakfast," she deadpanned. "It's been a challenge."

Diverting our attention away from the two Mates tongue fucking each other, we watched silently as Angela swam over to where Seth was lounging on the side, his arms resting wide on the tile wall surrounding the edge of the pool. They seemed to make shy pleasantries for a moment. Well, shy for her. He looked confident and eager yet reserved. She looked so sweet talking to him, seeming to really like him. I smiled as I turned away.

"And do you have a special Consort twisting your nubbin at night?" I asked Jessica. She blushed slightly, then looked over to the cabana were the rest of the boys in question were seated. Mike and Jacob both were looking in our direction, raising their glasses of pale ale to us in salute. We copied the gesture with smiles of our own. Mike took a large sip, then licked his lips to rid himself of the small beer 'stach left behind. Jessica spun around, her own drink keeping her mouth occupied as the redness in her cheeks deepened.

"Really?" I asked, stunned.

"Shut up," she muttered into her glass.

"Mike? Really?"

"You don't understand, Bella. He does this thing with his mouth. My god, I saw Jesus, I swear to you."

"Okay, forget I asked," I told her, holding my palm out to her to keep her mouth from saying anything else that'd give me the heebie jeebs.

"What? He's cute..." Her tone was defensive and a little bit on the shy side.

"No, you're right, he is. It's just..."

"What?" she asked when I couldn't finish. I didn't want to sound too bitchy or make her like him any less. If that was what it took to float her boat, than I was more than happy for her. For me...yeah, he missed the train with the whole 'dick in the fire hose' move at the costume party. I made up some lame excuse.

"The whole fire fighter thing threw me off, I guess. I dated one once. They are all assholes."

Jessica laughed. A full on belly guffaw that had her doubled over is hysterics. I watched her for a couple seconds, hoping she wasn't going to topple over from lack of oxygen.

"You thought he was serious with that shit?" Jessica wheezed, tears streaming from the corner of her eye. I looked at her nonplussed. She began trying to catch her breath, holding onto my arm so she didn't outright fall over.

"Well, he did have his Johnson in a cloth hose, Jess," I replied. My words sent her into another round of laughter, and I couldn't help the small smile from creeping onto my face.

"What's so funny?" I heard Angela ask as she wrapped a towel around her body, looking between the two of us with an expectant expression.

"Bella though Mike was serious with the 'Dick on Fire' thing..."

"Oh, shit," Angela giggled. "Bella, he was just kidding. No one in their right mind would be serious about that shit."

"What about the DJ Jazzy Fresh speak?" Both Angela and Jessica guffawed. I felt like an idiot.

"Holy crap, that's the funniest shit I've heard all week!" Jessica wheezed.

"So, why are you out of the pool?" I asked Angela, trying to change to subject. She smiled, combing her fingers through her damp hair.

"Seth went to refill my drink and grab one for himself. I'm going to meet him in one of the cabanas."

"Okay, you know I love you, but if you start screaming in the lounge, I'm going to have to throw up," Jessica grumbled in mock-seriousness.

"Oh, quiet. It's not like that. We aren't supposed to do that out here."

"Well, I don't know who told you that, but some people didn't seem to get the memo," Jessica replied, angling her head toward another cabana with the curtains closed. I looked toward it, curious who could be inside.

Seconds later, the white fabric parted. Lauren stepped out of it, adjusting her bikini top before fixing a stray piece of her hair. She grabbed a half empty glass from the table directly in front of her and made her way toward the bar, where Tanya was waiting with a shit-eating grin.

I looked back toward the Cabana, my heart seizing in my chest. Edward came out, the string of his board shorts loose and flopping down his leg. I felt my face go white. The glass in my hand became heavy, and I suddenly needed to be alone.

"I need a bathroom," I heard myself say.

"I think there's one in the pool house," Jessica replied, pointing in the right direction. I didn't look. My eyes were fixed on Edward as he did a cursory glance around the yard, taking in the environment. His eyes met mine and I flinched. There was none of the warmth I'd see before, none of the charm. He was cold, flat, and utterly callous. Part of me wanted to cry.

"Excuse me," I muttered, heading in the direction I think Jessica had pointed to. I set my half-consumed drink on a table as I passed at a fast clip, needing to be alone so I could figure out just what in the hell happened.

"Hey, Bella. What's wrong?" Alice was standing by my path, talking to Jasper in hushed tones.

"I need a bathroom," I told her, hurrying past without a second thought. I ignored her inquiries, set on my course. I threw the doors open to the house with a loud bang. My eyes were wide as I searched in which direction I should go. A long hallway off to the right looked like my best bet, so I rushed down it in blind haste.

I was barely through the door before I felt the vodka-blueberry-coconut mixture make a reappearance. Luckily, it was mostly fluid, so the sink made a perfect puke bucket. I stood there for several more moments, my bottom lip trembling from adrenaline. I glanced up to the mirror, seeing how ashen and gaunt my face looked. I turned on the faucet and splashed some cool water on my cheeks, then rinsed out my mouth a couple of times.

_What the Hell am I doing...?_

Why the hell did I react that way? I mean, I knew coming in it was most likely going to be slightly difficult. Jealousies can run wild in this kind of situation, but this was completely different. It...hurt. And I didn't understand why.

I'd done what I was supposed to do. I shut off my emotions, I set my limits, and I cut off any expectations. I came here with the intentions of...

"Fuck," I muttered, hating the sting of tears forming in my eyes. How could I let him make me cry? He wasn't doing anything that he wasn't supposed to do. He was a Consort at a sex club...and I was his nameless toy to play with.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"Well, if you say it nicely, I might oblige." I turned to see James leering at me from the doorway. He had his hand low on his abdomen, his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at me like a lazy lion watching a limping gazelle. I didn't have patience for this shit.

"Do you need the bathroom?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking. James laughed, taking a step inside the small confined space. All of a sudden, I felt really uncomfortable.

"What I need is you, apparently," he answered, his voice thick like molasses.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I saw how you flipped your shit out there. And I saw how Edward watched you run like your pussy got hurt, but he didn't care, did he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I answered, taking a hand towel from the rack to wipe my face off.

James crossed the threshold, blocking me inside the room. I felt my defenses kick in for a moment. I didn't like feeling like I was trapped.

"Do you know what else I saw?" he whispered, his beer laced breath fanning across my face, adding to my nausea. "I saw you sucking him off last night in that room. I watched you through the mirror, both Vicky and I. We saw your mouth on his dick, and do you know what I thought? Mine would look so much better with your lips around it."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the bile at bay. "Get out of my way," I growled, trying to sound fierce and solid. I really wanted to pass out.

"He fucked you good, I got to give him that. Probably fucked that Lauren chick just as well today without a second thought. He's always been my kinda guy. But what you need is a real experience. That's what you came here for, right? Experimentation? Trying new things?"

"I want to leave."

He put his hand on my waist, his fingers automatically curving around the low dipping fabric in the back. I felt him graze the curve of my ass, and I wanted nothing more than to punch him in the nads, but I couldn't move.

"What you want is for me to take you now. Vicky won't care if she's not here. She's fucked a few Consorts and Betties solo in her day."

I placed my hands on his chest and shoved as hard as I could, but he barely moved. James was at least six foot tall, built from solid steel, and could probably bench press one of me in each arm. If he didn't want to leave, there was no way I was going to make him. Panic swelled in my chest, and I felt my fist plant itself into his jaw before I knew what I was doing.

"Yes!" James cheered, wiping his mouth from a few drops of blood. I'd split his lip wide open. "That's what she likes. A little foreplay. Oh, baby, this is going to be so good."

He bent down to kiss me, crimson fluid on his lips, his breath smelling bitter and rank. I recoiled, pushing him with everything I had. His hands clamped down on my body, his chest pressed up against mine. I closed my eyes, wishing I were anywhere else.

Suddenly, I felt him being wrenched away from me, and I fell to the ground in a trembling heap. Carlisle had James by the throat, Jasper holding the creep's arms behind his back in submission. I felt two arms pick me up off the ground and I looked up to see Jacob's warm, concerned eyes looking down on me.

"Bella, honey, are you okay?" Rosalie asked, coming through the pool door in a hurry. Emmett was behind her, followed by Alice, Angela, and Jess.

Jacob repositioned me, holding me in his massive grip so that my head rested on his shoulder. I felt comforted, safe, and in no way able to answer the hurried questions being thrown at me by my friends.

"Get your shit and get out!" Carlisle growled at James, pushing him by his jugular toward the door. Jasper followed close behind him, a stern look on his face that I'd never seen. He'd always been so laid back before.

Victoria met James at the door, beginning to question what happened in rapid succession. "These people don't know how to have a good time, darlin'," James drawled, and I pulled my body in closer to Jacob at the sound of his horrible, non-repentant reply.

I stared blankly ahead of me as Rosalie grabbed a towel from the bathroom and told me she was going to wipe the blood from my face. I watched numbly as Jacob carried me out of the pool house, back toward the house. I kept quiet as more of the house-mates gathered outside, watching, asking questions, trying to see where the blood had come from. And I looked away as Edward met my gaze, the concern and sincerity I'd known so well last night making a reappearance.

I felt nothing.

I wanted to go home.

* * *

**AN: Down to business. I'm sorry I've been MIA. For a good reason, though. I finished my original fiction, Shadow Kin. I'll let you all know if it ever gets published. Wish me luck!**

**The next chapter is from Emmett's POV and will be part of the Fandom for LLS compilation. You must donate to receive a copy. Link to their website is on my profile. **

**Thanks for reading. Leave me some lovin'.**


	24. The Contrite

**Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization.©2011 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to my girls! Neliz & Candy, you girls have been more than I could ask for.**

* * *

**** Warning: Edward the Asshole is back in the this chapter. This is a good indication of how he was with Bree in the last round of the program. Fair warning, no go read. Meet you at the bottom.****

* * *

The Contrite

~ Edward ~

I didn't know what I was doing. My life had seemed so simple less than a week ago. Now, I felt like everything was turned the fuck around.

Bella had screwed everything up. Her presence, her touch . . . And I'd tried so many times to extract her from my mind, but nothing was working.

Like an idiot, I tried to talk to her about the pain this program could bring. The heartache that giving yourself to a woman . . . or a man . . . could cause when that person turned around and shit on everything. She basically laughed in my face, telling me that her heart was secure and safe behind an emotionless brick wall. I knew better.

So instead of wasting time by telling her I knew about it from experience, I'd decided maybe a visual would work better. It wasn't my intention, but I capitalized on it anyway. Not to mention, her complete and utter apathy burnt me like nothing else had, and part of me wanted her to hurt the way that I did.

But not like this.

Damn it, I blamed myself. I stood outside her door, staring daggers into the wood, wishing I could be in there. I hated fucking James. I didn't know what he'd done to her but I had an idea. He could never keep his damn hands to himself, and lovely, sensual women had always been his downfall. Bella was all that and more, and he'd cornered her inside the pool house because she'd ran. Ran from me, from the scene with Lauren, and from the feelings seeing the two of us together had invoked.

And I blamed myself for whatever she'd endured.

No matter what Bella had told me, I wasn't stupid. Her adamant denial that emotion didn't come hand in hand with sex didn't make it true. I, of all people here, knew that there was something deep inside our souls that shared a connection with a sexual partner, regardless of the relationship's nature.

But I'd driven Bella to prove me wrong. I'd pushed that reality onto her without any regard to how hard she'd push me back. And now, she was hurt. I wouldn't blame her if she left all together.

"They're taking a long time." Emmett leaned against the wall, his hands dug deep into his pockets. We'd been standing out in the hallway, waiting for Bella and Rosalie to emerge from the room. So far, only Alice had come out. She wouldn't give me any news, stating that Bella would have to tell me what had happened herself. All she said was that she was fine, giving me a pointed look that both increased my guilt and made me want to vomit.

This morning had started off so much different. I'd awaken to Bella in my arms, slumbering softly. She had been laying there, her back against my chest, her body gloriously naked. I held her for several hours, wishing she'd wake up yet hoping she'd stay in that sleepy state of oblivion at the same time. The sweet smell of her hair in my face, the feel of her soft body pressed against my hard one . . . Nothing could've felt so right.

I hadn't wanted to do this bull shit again, didn't want to go through the program and put my heart on the line. I'd done it and was shit on, so much so that I'd turned around and did it to someone else. It turned me into someone I hated.

But with her in my arms, it felt right, no matter how many times I told myself not to give in.

With her words from last night echoing in my mind, I tried to remind myself that she was here for a purpose. She'd made that quite clear several times over. Being with other men was on her horizons. More than that, it was in her immediate plans, but part of me hoped she'd change her mind. Two nights in a row, spending the whole night with her in my arms, I thought she'd chose to forgo those others for me.

But when she didn't show up to our morning date, part of me hated her. Not a small part, either. I hated the seductress that she was, the innocent virigin she could portray, and the heartwrenchingly beautiful woman she would always be. More so, I hated myself. Those hours I held her, the pathetic romantic inside my shriveled heart had convienced my mind that I'd put that crippled organ out on the table once more.

When she tried to creep out of the room in the morning, I told myself it was nothing. I pretended to be sleeping and mumbled my invitation. When she accepted, it only convinced me further of the lie.

I sat in the kitchen for an hour and a half, longer than she'd been awake for. I'd heard Alice grumbling about her avoiding the planned swim party, figuring it was her attempting to distance herself.

Fine by me, I thought, taking one more sip of my lukewarm tea before heading upstairs. I passed by her room on the way to my own, not even taking a second look toward her direction. Each step I took my wall was being rebuilt, my brain and rational logic cussing out my weak heart like a well-seasoned sailor.

I got ready for the pool, slipping on my mask of indifference.

"Ed!" Seth called, clapping a large hand on my shoulder as I stepped onto the patio.

"Hey, bro! Have a nice time last night?" My brother, the constant man with nothing but pussy on his mind, called from the shallow end of the pool. I leveled him with a sly smile, as if I had a tantalizing secret I wasn't telling. Confidence and swagger – that's all I could afford to portray.

"Look at that face!" Mike crowed with a triumphant laugh. "My boy had it good last night."

"And the one before," Jacob added, taking a swig from his beer bottle.

"Come one now, gentlemen," Jasper stated, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. "Let's not be a bunch of horny frat boys. These women deserve respect."

Respect, I scoffed internally. She didn't leave me with respect that morning, trying to sneak out like some kind of prostitute. If she was in it for the experience than so was I. She wanted a ice cold exterior so that she could protect her emotions, that was my specialty. And it began with outward appearances, right?

"Yeah, we shouldn't act like frat boys," I proclaimed with mock seriousness. "They don't get laid as often as we do."

After much cajoling and an exasperated shake of the head from Jasper, we decided to set up the BBQ before the girls showed up. Knowing they'd want to make an appearance by being sociably late, we didn't rush our grilling. In fact, this was the part I used to enjoy. Still did, if I was honest, but my mind was still filled with all things Bella.

No better way to get my mind off of her by watching a parade of practically naked women strutting before me.

"Damn . . . " Mike's proclamation turned our heads, and we all removed our beers from our hanging mouths as the first chick appeared.

The mated women crossed the threshold first, giggling arm in arm while holding some kind of mixed drink in their manicured hands. Most of those women had come to be like sisters to me, but I could appreciate a delicious body when I saw one. At risk of popping an inappropriate happy stick, I turned my head while the mated men left the food table to claim their women. I didn't blame them.

As the couples disappeared to enjoy the various attractions the pool had to offer, the Consorts and I tried to adjust ourselves, incognito style. Mike flipped the burgers a little early, most likely in preparation so that they wouldn't be burned when the next wave hit – the parade of women we were actually allowed to fuck.

And here they were.

The large bay doors opened and each women stepped into our sights. The Cullens sure knew how to pick their women. Rounded curves, flat, toned stomachs, legs long and enticing . . .

Mouthwatering.

Each Betty stepped out of the mansion dressed in varying scraps of barely there bikinis. I never seen the point of wedged sandals before; they seemed pointless in my opinion – not something one could enjoy at the beach. But seeing those tight asses propped up on shapely legs made my dick stand to attention. Yeah, getting Bella out of my mind might be a little more fun than I'd anticipated.

"When can we send out invitations again?" Mike asked, lewdly licking his lips in anticipation.

"Well, if we followed Eddie's lead, we don't have to," Jacob retorted, glaring at me as he turned away from the women and chugged the last of his beer.

"Something you want to talk about, Jake?"

"Naw, man," he shrugged, twisting the top off another beer. "I just don't get how you can break the damn rules every year without so much as a swat to your wrist."

"Quit pouting," Seth scoffed. "It's not like you wouldn't break the damn rules if you had the chance."

"All I'm saying is that it's only the first week in the Mansion, and he already has his hooks in the hottest chick here."

"You want Bella?" I asked him point blank, trying my hardest to act like that question didn't hurt like hell to ask.

"Fuck, I think all of us do. That's why we're here, right?"

"Guess so . . ."

"Where is she, by the way?" Seth looked around the yard.

"Probably still a little sore from the weekend events," Mike chuckled like an idiot. "Am I right?"

"Alice said she's not coming," I answered with a shrug, hoping my voice carried nonchalance, and not the edge of hurt I felt in my heart. I pushed it down, wanting to get back that air of indifference I'd had for so long. I turned to Jake, giving him the flattest expression I could manage. "If you want Bella, go claim her."

"I might just do that," he answered, watching me closer than I would've liked. I turned away from him, sipping on my beer a little to long to pass as apathy. "Edward, don't do this." I heard his words in my ear, low so that they were only between us.

"Do what, Jake?"

"One weekend with her and you're going to turn back into the 'Asshole the Jane wrought'?"

"Don't act like you know what you're talking about, Jacob," I growled in his face, holding the warring emotions back with all my ability.

"Fine," he grit out. "Act like a royal dick-wad again. Bella doesn't deserve that shit, anyway."

"You're right. She doesn't want anything like me. She wants fifty of me, all night long, in multiple ways."

"You're a fuck head, you know that?"

"Yup, that's me. Deal with it." I walked away before I could say anything I'd really regret, finding a vacant cabana and making myself comfortable. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted to do more than get good and drunk, and the small, fully stocked mini fridge sitting right next to the lounge chair became my new best friend. And after I'd poured five long necks down my gullet, I was well on the way to my goal.

"There you are," a silky smooth voice purred, and I smiled as the side of the cabana opened to reveal a beautifully seductive Betty. Lauren, I think her name was. The fact that I barely knew her name was another reminder of how consumed I'd been by Bella.

Bella, the women who had no interest to satisfying herself with me alone. Fine by me . . .

That'd be my motto for the rest of this god forsaken program.

Fine. By. Me.

"Here I am," I smiled drunkenly. "And here you are."

"Hmmmm," she moaned. "Yes, but I'd really like to be somewhere else." She stepped closer, her itty bitty bikini riding deliciously low on her hips.

"And where's that?"

"Right about here," she replied huskily, straddling my lap with her mile high legs. She placed herself directly onto my pelvis, grinding just slightly as she adjusted her body. Her breasts were leveled in my face, bouncing a bit as she settled. My hands automatically gripped her hips, the silky smooth skin feeling like one hundred percent woman under my fingers.

I smiled, thinking this was what I needed to get over Bella. To get her out of my skin and my mind.

"I like you here," I told her, running my hands up her sides, teasing the sides of her barely covered breasts. "But there are rules, you know."

"Well, rumor has it you're a bit of a rule breaker, Edward."

"Is that so?"

"Mmmhmmm," she nodded with her plump bottom lip between her teeth, one hand reaching back toward the tie around her neck. She pulled the string slowly, loosening the top of her thin, pink bikini top. The cups spilled down her body, revealing a set of perfectly round tits.

Like I said, mouthwatering.

"I hate to disappoint you, but I'm not a rule breaker," I said, swallowing thickly. "And if they find us in here like this, we'll both be kicked out."

"Come one," she purred, leaning in to rub her nipples across my chest. "Everyone loves a rebel."

Her painted nails ran up and down my bare chest, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. Reaching the edge of my board shorts, she pulled the tie that kept them loosely on my hips. Lauren dipped one finger inside, swiping across the head of my dick. Finding her goal hard and ready, she thrust her hips once more, giving me a fairly good idea of what she'd be like in bed.

Passionate yet demanding, and one hundred percent not Bella.

Lust turned to disgust. Wanton saliva became the sting of bile in my throat. I swallowed again, this time to keep my stomach contents down.

"Stop," I ordered, sharp and clear so there was no mistake. Lauren sat up abruptly, looking at me as if I had two heads.

"What?"

"I can't do this."

"Can't do what?"

"This," I replied, gesturing toward her half naked body. "Not here, and not right now."

"No one will know," she purred again, trying one more time to entice me into action my grinding herself onto me. It took everything inside me not to toss her ass onto the floor.

"It's not that," I told her, grasping her arms so that I could pull her away from my body.

"Well, then what is it?" she bit out, all sensuality gone from her voice.

"Our first time shouldn't be like this," I tried desperately. My words seemed to deflate the anger brewing inside of her. She grinned like that cat who ate the cream.

"Well, since you didn't send me an invite, I figured I'd come to you. I know what I want, Edward. And I've wanted you since the first time I saw you."

"Is that so?"

"I was hoping I'd get an invitation from you soon," she said in a sad little girl voice, running one nail down my abdomen. "Maybe this weekend?"

"Maybe," I supplied, the thought of it not sitting right. "But I won't be able to send you anything if we get kicked out."

"One little kiss," she asked, pinching two fingers together to measure what she considered to be little. I nodded, hating the sudden palpitations thrumming in my rib cage. She leaned forward, smashing her breasts into my chest. Her plush lips pressed against mine. Sweetly innocent at first, but then she opened her mouth, and what I deemed as a little kiss turned into a full on fornication of the oral kind.

Eventually she pulled away, retied her top, and swayed her ass as she left me sitting there with a butt load of crap floating through my mind.

I didn't understand why I responded the way I did to her touch, but I was pretty sure it had to do with Bella. Once again, I found myself loathing the day I'd met her. Today wasn't my day, and apparently I needed a huge attitude adjustment.

I stood from the cabana with plans to return to my room for some well needed R & R when I spotted Bella gaping at me like a fish. The pain in her face seeing me leaving the cabana, knowing Lauren had just been inside alone with me, tore through her features. For that one second we held eye contact, I knew she was hurt. She'd received my visual message about emotions being tied to sex loud and clear, and despite the pain she was feeling, part of me was glad. Let her know the sting of betrayal and regret.

"Edward," Rosalie's voice barked sharply, pulling me away from Bella's gaze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flee into the pool house, but I turned my thoughts away from her.

"What's up, Rose?"

"What the hell were you doing with that nasty bitch?" Rosalie practically growled at me, consternation deep in her vivid, blue eyes.

"I don't think it's any of your business, Rose," I scoffed, pushing past her to grab another beer from the ice chest.

"You've been screwing my Betty for the past two nights, I think it is my business."

"Your Betty has made it pretty clear she's looking forward to more invites from other Consorts," I retorted as I twisted the cap off my beer. Rosalie stared at me blankly while I chugged three quarters of its contents, the judging silence more than I could handle at the moment. Guilt swam through my mind. Guilt and anger and regret . . . again.

God, I hated this damn program.

"You're an idiot, do you know that?"

"Enlighten me, Rosalie. What did I do now?"

She took a step closer to me, lowering her voice so only I could hear her words. "I understand you've been hurt and you're afraid to keep your heart open —" I cut her off before she could say anymore on the pathetic topic.

"Look, I like Bella a lot. But I'm not going to risk anything on a woman who is clearly here for one purpose only – to get laid in every way imaginable. She's made that clear."

"And how many men has she been with since she got here, genius?"

I paused, temporarily thrown back by her words. "It's only the first week. I'm sure she'll get her feet wet."

"And yet, she turned down every invite I gave her last night for a chance to do some ridiculous – illegal, I might add – challenge with you. And in case you didn't notice, she doesn't need any help in that area."

"You would know, wouldn't you Rose. You and my brother."

"Does that bother you?" she asked, both hands going to her hips.

"What, that you were intimate with Bella? I don't know, Rosalie. Does it bother Emmett to see you give yourself to another woman?"

"Emmett knows what I like," she answered softly, a little less bite to her tone.

"And I'm sure he'll still allow you to continue your trysts with other women once you leave this place, right? 'Cause that's what love's all about! Maybe one day he'll fall for one of your women as well. Oops, my bad. Heard that already happened." My sarcastic, condescending tone made her guard go up, and I felt another wave of guilt as her eyes filled with tears.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand self sacrifice and all that love can bring." Her words fell from her trembling mouth, weak and pain stricken. I didn't know which thing I said to make her so upset, but I'd hit a nerve somewhere in my rant. Despite what Rosalie was trying to do, I didn't want her hurt by me. Besides the fact my brother would kick my ass, I loved her like a sister.

"Rosalie, I —"

My words were cut off by a commotion near the pool house. Rosalie took off in a dead sprint, and a wave of dread enveloped me when I realized Bella had been inside.

Everyone crowded around the bay doors leading to the pool house, trying to see inside. James walked out with a smug expression on his face, Jasper following close behind. A streak of blood smeared his lips, chin, and across one hand. I felt my insides begin to boil. A topless Victoria stood by his side, demanding to know what James had done.

Bella . . .

I pushed my way through the crowd, wanting to see if she was alright. Jacob parted the bodies, carrying a trembling Bella in his arms. She had blood on her arm and across her face, with no definitive location of the source. I stared open mouthed as Jacob carried her over the threshold, his massive arms making her look small and defenseless.

I wanted to call out to her. Every instinct in my body want to take her from Jacob and keep her safe myself, but I just stood there, frozen. She glanced up from Jacob's chest and leveled a heartsick, traumatized gaze right through me, and it was then when I realized that her pain was my fault.

She'd seen me with Lauren and ran inside that house, trying to hide away from the emotions she'd denied for two days. Jealousy, rage, envy, pain – it didn't matter which she felt, it'd been too much. I recognized that point of realization, for I'd had it myself a time or two. It'd been too much for her and she fled, right into the arms of a sinister monster.

I'd never forgive myself.

"Edward . . ." Carlisle voice seemed distant, unable to penetrate my bubble of self-flagellation. My mind was zoned past him, drilling into the head of the man who'd hurt my Betty.

"You son of a bitch!" My body reacted before my common sense had a chance to catch up. I flew across the yard, barreling straight toward James. He saw me coming a second before my fist made contact, but that didn't squelch the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking.

"Edward!" Jasper grabbed me across the waist, pulling me away from James before I could pummel him again. "Leave him be."

James spit out a mouth full of blood, smiling at me with red tinted teeth. "You never could share, Eddie. Even when we were young."

"She's not a plaything, you fucking asshole. How could you?"

"You see, that's where you're wrong. They're all our playthings! That's what our ancestors wanted, right?"

"James, you don't have any idea what you're talking about," Jasper scoffed, his grip around me loosening slightly.

"No? Am I wrong, Carlisle? Isn't that what you told me once I was mated to that?" He pointed over his shoulder to a stunned Victoria, her eyes widening as she watched her paired mate's display. The disdain on James' face as he looked at Victoria was evident, and she tried to cover her naked breasts in a sudden wave of propriety.

"James, when you were mated, I'd hoped you'd change." Carlisle's voice was firm and reprimanding.

"You mated me to a whore. Why would I change?"

"James," Victoria barked. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"If you ever touch Bella again," I warned, snarling when James' smile widened at my unfinished threat.

"James, get your stuff and get out," Carlisle declared. "You're no longer needed here."

"Fine by me," he laughed. He grabbed a towel from a lounge chair and began mopping up his torn up face. The blood reminded me of Bella, of the crimson fluid I'd seen marring her beautiful skin, and suddenly I needed to get to her.

Ignoring the calls from Jasper and Carlisle, my feet moved toward her direction. I needed to see her, wanted to feel her in my arms and know that she was okay. Damn the emotions, damn the walls, I didn't care. I'd put her in that position and I wanted to see her through it. Fuck James. Fuck Carlisle. Fuck Jacob Black.

But an hour had gone by and I still wasn't allowed to see her. I didn't know if it was by her request, or from Rosalie's. I'd wait though, for however long it took.

"Is he gone?" I asked, continuing my pacing outside of Bella's door.

"Yeah, James left thirty minutes ago," Emmett replied, checking his watch for the time.

"Good," I muttered, the wave of anger and injustice tampered for the time being.

"Ed, maybe you should take a break," Emmett began, pausing when I leveled him with a menacing glare. "It's just that I doubt she will want to see anyone right now."

"You're waiting," I pointed out.

"For Rosalie," he clarified. "I can let you know what happened, okay? I think you need to cool down for a while."

Just then, the door opened. Rosalie stepped out, looking tear stricken and tired.

"She's fine," she announced thickly. "Thank god the boys got to her before James did anything stupid."

"The blood?" I demanded, having to know the answer.

"It was his," Rosalie sighed, offering a slight smile of approval. "Bella has a mean right hook."

My insides rejoiced in gratification. It seemed both of us got a piece of that asshole.

"I want to see her," I declared, my tone not giving room for argument. I saw Emmett stand from the wall, ready to back his woman up if I started a fight.

"She doesn't want to see you," Rosalie stated flatly, her arms crossing over her chest.

"I don't care." I took a step toward the door, ignoring my brother's hand on my shoulder and Rosalie's outward palms of protest.

"Is Bella okay?" I heard Jake's voice from down the hallway, and I looked to see him, Seth, Angela, and Jessica headed in our direction.

"She's fine," Rosalie answered, letting out a breath as she addressed the newcomers. "She's been through a lot tonight, so only one visitor for now, alright?"

"I won't be long," I told the group, redoubling my efforts to get inside her door.

"No, Edward. She only want to see one person right now," Rosalie reminded, acting as sentinel once again. And when she turned to look behind me, my heart thudded to a dead stop. "Jake, Bella wants you."

I stood stock still as her words sank in, barely feeling Jacob push past me to get inside her room.

Jacob.

Jacob Black.

Her savior.

That's who she wanted to see, of course. Not the man who made her see the truth in the harshest of ways. Not the man who she'd shared a bed with, who'd made it really plain that she meant nothing more than a pussy and pair of nice breasts.

I was a fool for more reasons than one.

And I had about enough of it all.

* * *

**AN: I love each and every one of you. I know that chap was hard to read, but this is not PWP (porn without plot). Stick with me, and please don't send me a hateful review. It's been hard enough to write my WIP ontop of my original. I'm trying, people. **

**1st point of business – blog is updated, including a post on the Countdown to 2012 I'm a part of. Check out the rules and rewards. I'm counting on you guys to pick me out of the crowd ;)**

**2nd point of business – Yes, I got the contract. First book should be out in May, so I'll let you know when it's available. It is a YA supernatural fiction, and it does not involve vampires. Ahahaha. **

**3rd point of business – The Emmett POV chap was donated to the Fandom 4 LLS and will be posted on this site on Dec 3rd. It is the next chapter in this story line, so for all of you who've donated, you got to read it early! Whoo hoo! Let me know if you've already read it and what you think. **


	25. My Betty

**Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization.©2011 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

My Betty

a bonus chapter from The Betty Chronicles

‡

Banner done by RoseArcadia

Beta services provided by CandyCanesFly

Based on the commercial for Dylan George & Abbot + Main, staring Kellan Lutz and Anne Vyalitsyna. Check this out before reading …

www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=2PpB4lhEk7g

* * *

~ Emmett ~

I hated this.

I hated feeling so out of control.

I leaned up against the wall outside Bella's door, waiting for my Rosalie to come out and let me know if everything was okay. That fucker James had an ass beating heading his way, that much was certain. If I ever saw that fuckhead again... I didn't give a shit if he was family.

D. E. A. D

Even though I hated the fact that Bella was in there, upset and probably traumatized from whatever James and his ever present erection had done — even though I couldn't beat the snot out of the perv since he was packing up his shit — I wasn't upset because of him. I was furious, that much was square. But I was _upset_ because my little brother was pacing a hole in the rug in front of me, and I couldn't do a damn thing to calm him down.

He loved her, I knew he did.

Whether he wanted to admit that to himself or not, Edward was in love with Bella. That shit didn't have a certain sequence or time line in which it occurred. When it was real, that thing called the love bug bit you straight on your ass.

I could tell he liked her more than the other girls from the first day, right after their trials. He had genuine interest in his eyes when he spoke of her, a flash of something I'd never seen before. And I'd been in the program once with Edward, even seen him go through a second time, but from the view of Rosalie's mate. Each time, Edward was the same: cold, fake, uninterested...bored.

He said he loved that bitch who broke his heart in the first round, but he didn't. I _knew_ he didn't. I could see it in his eyes. He didn't look at her with longing like I did with my Rosie, or how Jasper was with Alice. Besides, she was too self-centered and egotistical for him to really have any serious interest in her. My brother deserved better, anyway.

He learned a valuable lesson that day Jane left him to go try out another Consort. A lesson I'm sure even now he didn't fully understand. Sex doesn't happen without intimacy. No matter how hard someone tries to take out the emotions involved, it can't happen. Sure, they could ignore them, pretend they don't exist, but sooner or later they come up in the worst moments. Like now for my brother...

Sex, the act itself is the most intimate thing two people care partake in. No matter the premise of this ill-conceived program, that shit goes hand-in-hand with intimacy, and my poor brother was blind-sided by it with that skanky whore, Jane. Obviously she didn't get the basis of this program. She was as naive as Edward was, spreading her legs for every dick in the joint behind his back.

See, but here was the thing. I didn't get it either. I didn't understand the program until I met my Rosie. It was lust at first sight, that much was certain. Love came after I touched her the first time. Infatuation followed our first real conversation. Devotion grew when she told me she loved me, too.

The gossip whores in the house were spreading rumors that I had a thing for one of the Betties. Ridiculous. I had Rosalie, and she was enough woman to last me a lifetime. No one could hold a candle to my woman, and who ever thought any different could fuck off.

I knew who started the rumors, too. It was that narcissistic Betty named Lauren. I'd seen her eavesdropping when Rosalie and I were in the middle of a heated discussion about Bella and Edward. She must've just heard the parts about Bella before we'd seen her listening in. Damn bitch... I always hated catty women.

I looked up from the tiled floor as the door opened. Alice came out looking distressed and flustered. I peeked inside the room for the briefest of moments, making eye contact with Rosalie. She stood over Bella's bed, comforting her as Carlisle spoke to Bella in hushed tones. Rosalie offered me a small smile, but I could see the concern in her eyes.

She was such an amazing person. So compassionate and caring. One day she was going to be an awesome mother, and I smiled every time I thought about her swollen with my child.

This was our last time through the Cullens. It was fun while it lasted, but we were both ready to just move on, leaving this world behind. The program did what it was meant to do: brought us together in the most obscure, yet binding way.

God, the first time I saw her...

I couldn't get her out of my mind. There were four of us in the Observation Deck when her turn came. Garrett had seen her before, by accident of course. He wouldn't shut up about how drop dead gorgeous she was.

"Rosalie Hale," he'd said. "God, she has a name built for screaming."

"I don't know, Gar. Some of those gorgeous ones don't like to get dirty," Jasper drawled from beside me, popping the top off his beer can. "It'd mess up their hair, or some shit."

"Then she can wrap her pretty little lips around my cock," James retorted, his voice thick and perversely wanton. "Won't even have to worry about that hair, I'd just sit back and relax." He laced his fingers behind his head, lounging like an idiot. Sometimes, I just wanted to hit him.

We heard the door for the bedroom behind the two-way mirror begin to creek open, and we all became quiet. I always found it funny watching the other guys in these scenarios. I'd imagined we resembled dirty old pervs in an adult theater, popcorn in hand and bottle of lube in our pockets.

A beautiful blonde came through the door, and my breath seemed to catch in my throat. Rosalie Hale was the most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen. Her presence seemed to radiate confidence and conviction, emphasized when she picked up the little card that listed her instructions and she smiled victoriously in response.

"Oh, this is going to be HOT!" James growled, and I threw my empty beer can at his head to get him to shut up. He gave me the finger over his shoulder, never swaying his attention from the eager blonde prowling the room in preparation.

Rosalie wore a pair of dark denim jeans that hugged her ass perfectly. I couldn't even remember what kind of shirt she had on, because the next thing I knew, she wore only a lace bra. It barely covered the swell of her breasts, and I'd never cursed the tensile strength of lace until then.

There was a large bed with a gold cover, centered in the middle of the room, offering us the perfect view of whatever happened on it's surface. Languidly, Rosalie climbed on top of the bed and began to touch herself.

I didn't breath, couldn't move, as she ran her tiny hands up and down her waist. Each time she'd climb a little higher, each time she'd tug on those tight as fuck jeans. Honestly, I didn't know how she was going to get those things off; they were molded to her. But fuck, I knew if I was in there with her, I'd fucking rip the damn things in half, no joke.

Turned out, they didn't need to leave her body. She did perfectly fine with them in place, only pulling them down slightly to reveal a matching lace thong that she used to get herself off. Rosalie writhed on the bed, using her hands and her mind, keeping herself in semi-dress as she climaxed over and over again.

When she was done, the sheets on the bed were in shambles, her hair was perfectly tousled, and her lips were pink and swollen from her teeth. I could only imagine the mess she'd made between her legs. My tongue salivated at the thought.

It took me several days of distraction before I could think of anything else besides that woman. I spent night after night, sitting on my bed, reliving her display in front of the mirror like it was a movie in my mind. I'd be hard as a rock, wanting to find relief but refusing to touch myself. The next time I climaxed, it would be inside of her, that was a guarantee.

The following week I finally saw her again. She looked amazing at the Cullen's introduction party. She wore a tiny dress that screamed sexuality yet kept her moderately covered. I wanted nothing more than to touch her, but I knew that wasn't the best plan. Instead, I watched her all night long, never introducing myself.

I was so wound tight, I thought that if I talked to her I'd be entranced by her mouth, her smell, the curves of her body. I'd probably start jizzing on her right when she opened her mouth to say 'hello', get myself tossed out, and never get the chance to be with her like I wanted.

At that realization, I thought about re-evaluating my no-masturbation plan.

My obsession with her began to get pathetic real quick. It was the night before the Moving Day, and I was anxious and feigning for her like a mad man. I'd been drinking Brandy with some of the guys downstairs in celebration for our dicks getting some action soon until the wee hours of the night. Every dude there began boasting about the women we'd seen, the ones who'd pledged themselves to their Consorts. I couldn't say anything, my mind was focused on only one Betty.

_My_ Betty...

I couldn't stay with the guys, listening as James explained in vivid detail how he was going to screw each one into oblivion. Fuck, I hated that guy.

I found myself inside the room she'd done her trial in, laying on the same bed, Brandy in hand. This wasn't the first time I'd ended up here late at night, with nothing occupying my mind but the ways she looked when she climaxed. She'd been breathtaking, and I wanted to steal every little gasp she'd made from her open mouth with my own.

I looked toward the bed, imagining her there with me. Frustrated, horny, and a little drunk, I fisted the sheets in agitation. God, this woman got under my skin.

That night, a plan formulated in my mind. I'd take her here, in this very room she'd done her trial in. I wanted her in a set of black lace underwear, and I wanted her waiting for me. This was happening, I told myself. And with a final pull on my Brandy, I got up from the bed and left, determined the next time I stepped through this door, she'd be mine.

I sent her an invitation filled with specific instructions to may fantasy through her Dame and waited on baited breath to see if she'd respond. That whole day I felt like some rare form of cancer was growing in my gut. My stomach was a mess, full of nerves and butterflies, feeling like I had to both shit and throw up at the same time.

Fuck, that made me sound like such a douche, but motherfucking butterflies were messing my shit up. I began to question the likelihood she'd accept. After all, I'd made the colossal mistake of not introducing myself at the party. She probably didn't even know who I was.

The night the invitations were accepted I was a sweaty, pathetic mess. The email notification stating she'd accepted and agreed to my terms had me squealing like a little girl. Fairy princesses be damned, I was a hot mess.

And excited as all hell . . .

I may have jacked off in the shower once or twice, or maybe it was just a couple wet daydreams, I couldn't remember. After that night, my prior memories had grown a bit hazy. I referred to the odd phenomenon as the Time Before my Rosalie, or TBR for short. Everything after her was vivid, full of life. That night in particular was a favorite of mine.

I walked into the infamous room, my anticipation zinging through my blood stream. The first thing that hit me was her scent. Before I'd even rounded the corner to the bedroom, I could make her distinctive smell out vividly. Fire and ice. A scintillating scent that had me salivating and shivering simultaneously.

I removed my shirt as soon as I crossed the threshold. I didn't want anything in the way of feeling her next to me. She was on the bed, writhing in nothing but that same set of lace lingerie and her tight black pants clinging low on her hips. She'd followed my instructions implicitly it seemed, for I wanted her wet and ready for fun before I'd even entered the room.

By the light sheen of sweat covering her chest, I assumed that wasn't the first orgasm she'd given herself.

"I've been waiting for you," her sweet voice purred, her hand still down her second-skin jeans, moving in a slow circle. I swallowed against the sudden rush of saliva in my mouth, wanting to replace that hand with myself as soon as possible.

"I'm here now," I growled, heading toward the bed in a slow prowl.

"It's about time," she smiled, pulling her hand free of her core. "You kept me waiting a long time."

"Somehow, I don't think that's your line."

"I'm not the one who's been pussy footing around the other," she purred, and I shuddered slightly at the sound of the word pussy coming from her lips. She looked at me pointedly, her eyes filled with focus on her prize. God, I hoped I was it.

She rolled over onto her belly, the tiny thong showing from beneath her extremely low jeans. The swell of her breast peeked out of the small cups of her black lace bra, and I had to fight down the urge to pull it all off completely.

"I'm not pussy footing..." I clarified, letting my eyes graze over her entire body. "You were the only invitation I sent out tonight."

"Well, why is it you never introduced yourself to me?" She asked the question while one of her hands began to re-explore her body, and I was shaking with the need to touch her. "I waited for you at the party. . ."

"Anticipation," I lied. "It's better this way."

I began to climb on the bed, having enough of the cat and mouse game. She rolled onto her back, looking up at me from between my arms. I went to release her from the confining bra but she shook her head, biting her lip just to incite me further.

"I do believe that your instructions said to ready myself like I did in my trial. I gave myself four orgasms that day, and I've only had the time for two now."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," I cooed. "You'll experience far more than two more."

I pulled myself off the bed and stalked around it, watching her intently as she cupped her own breasts through that cursed lace. Her breath came out in long sighs of contentment, watching me coiled and muscled, ready to pounce on her.

But I wasn't a stray dog, and I wasn't a beast. I'd take my time with her, I decided. She of all women deserved to be cherished, dripping, and completely sated before I even entered her body.

"Those jeans need to come off," I murmured, taking one perfect foot into my hand, tugging on the offending material with a slow precision. As I'd imagined before, the pants clung to her like a rubber suit, and I was afraid that I'd hurt her if I pulled too hard. She smiled at me slyly, probably knowing my predicament.

"While you work on those pants, I'm going to play, okay?" Her eyebrows were raised in challenge, and a snarl ripped from my chest as I watched her hand disappear beneath the lace panties once more. Short of running to the kitchen to retrieve a pair of fucking scissors, I didn't see those things coming off until my girl was keening by her own hand. That was un-fucking-acceptable in my book. At least I'd help her get there.

She moaned as she hit a particular spot inside herself, and my eye burned into her with need. I bent down slowly, never breaking eye contact, until my lips were at her hip, tasting her skin for the first time.

Delicious... Sensual... Carnal...

I felt her shudder under me, the skin at her hip flushing with eagerness. I ran my tongue along the edge of her panties, wanting to delve inside with a most desperate desire. That was her undoing, and mine as well.

While her body spasmed with her climax, mine ached to be inside her. I lifted her hips from the bed, grabbing two fist fulls of her jeans and pulled them down her hips. After passing the ample swells, the rest of the extrication was easy enough.

Bare... Finally.

My hands traveled up her smooth legs, enjoying the feeling of her silken skin. I reached her core with a barely concealed triumph, my fingers finding her dripping and swollen. I glanced up to her face, needing to see those memorizing eyes as I explored her. She was smiling at me in challenge, her bra forgotten on the side of the bed. I couldn't help but to lean over her body and place my lips on her chest, taking her into my mouth.

It was like a spark ignited between us then. Looking back, I couldn't describe my life without that passion or baser desire. In the mix of sweaty bodies and panted moans, I found something I didn't think ever really existed. Ultimate satisfaction.

An orgasm is an orgasm, whether it is by your own hand or with some nameless person. Most of them are empty, unfulfilled, at least that had been my experience. But with someone who matters...who your heart cries out for...it can take your breath away.

The first time I took her against the wall, driving into her in a frenzy of heated skin and barely clinging clothes. Regrettably, I wasn't even fully naked when it happened, and I couldn't remember the specific events that lead us to that wall.

The second time was slow and chaste, a reverent discovery of what made her moan. I didn't know what time we'd started or exactly when it ended. The next several months were all about her, and she kept me on my toes.

I'd loved her from the beginning, just as my brother loved his Betty. The only difference is my Rosie didn't fight it, and neither did I. We were together from the beginning, still willing to learn and take risks, but our hearts were safe with each other. It seemed that Edward and Bella were set out to hurt each other, fighting the draw that pulled them together.

But never at the expense of her safety... That would be the biggest crime. And while we all stood in the dark, waiting for word on Bella's condition, my brother seemed like he was coming unglued. I could only imagine his torment.

I'd kill someone if they ever touched my Betty...

* * *

**Yeah...I know. It's been a while. For those of you who know me well enough, you know I'm going through some major shit in my life right now. Writing is a release for me, but lately, it's been utter chaos in my mind. Please bear with me. i'm trying. **


	26. The Program

**Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization.©2011 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

**Thanks to my girls! Neliz & Candy, you girls have been more than I could ask for.**

* * *

The Program

~ Betty Pledge ~

"I'm glad you're alright.'

Jake's words brought my attention away from the bruised and swollen knuckles of my right hand. I flexed the fingers, cringing as the joints groaned and cracked.

"Nothing a little witch hazel won't fix," I mumbled, dipping my hand back into the small bowl of said concotion. I remembered my mother using this stuff. She swore by it, as did my grandmother Marie. Just felt like another layer of fire to my already throbbing hand, in my opinion. Perhaps my severe embarrassment just amplified everything.

"Bella, do you want to talk?"

_Did I?_

I asked Jake to come in for a reason, but just wasn't exactly sure what that was. He'd been the first person to carry me away from James and the 'almost incident.' I guessed I owed him some sort of kindness, some graditude.

"I just . . . wanted to thank you for what you did. You know, getting me out of there."

"Bella, did he hurt you?" Jake sat on the bed next to me, his heavy weight making the mattress sink, jostling the small bowl of liquid. I picked it up hoping to avoid a mess on my bed, placing it back on my lap once he'd settled.

"I think I hurt him more than he did me," I replied blandly, holding up my injured hand as evidence.

"Is that where the blood came from?"

I nodded, feeling the sting of the medicine when my hand plunged in once more.

"I'm gunna . . . If Edward hadn't . . . "

I looked up.

"If Edward hadn't what?"

A rabid growl rumbled low in Jacob's chest. "If Edward hadn't flattened his face, I would be right about now. I still might . . ."

"Why would Edward care what happened in that pool house?" I asked, ignoring the twing on glee jumping through my blood at that knowledge. Internally, I cringed, hating that I felt anything where he was concerned.

When Jacob didn't answer right away, I glanced up from my lap, meeting his eyes for the first time. His brow was furrowed, expression pensive, as if he were thinking of something he wasn't quite willing to share.

"What are you thinking about?" I couldn't stop the question from spilling through my lips. I guessed my filter had taken a vacay, along with my self-preservation.

"Can I ask you something?" Jacob asked, watching my face closely for any bad reaction.

"Sure."

"How many people have you taken an invitation from?" I glanced away from Jacob, not really wanting to start on this topic. The first night, I'd received two invitations. One from Edward, and the other from Jacob. Any conversation about why I'd rejected him would utterly drain me, and I'd been through enough emotional turmoil for one day.

Plus, I didn't want to divulge the fact that I hadn't even welcomed the invitations from Consorts the second night. I wasn't in the game. Well, not _that _game. I had my own challenge with Edward, one that had consumed my entire time in the wretched place.

"I think the fact that you don't want to answer that questions speaks volumes, Bella."

I looked up to Jacob, watching his flat expression.

"It's early in my stay." It was a pathetic excuse, and Jake didn't buy it. I could tell my the pointed look he gave me. "Well, it is . . ."

I shrugged, looking down into the liquid sloshing in the bowl. "I just . . . I don't know. I think I felt a connection with Edward in the beginning. He made me feel comfortable . . ."

I felt the bed move, sensing Jake coming a little closer. "If that's the truth, why am I in here, and he's pacing a hole into the hallway floor?"

Hearing that Edward stood outside my door made me feel a surge of something inside my chest. Hope perhaps? It was asinine if that were the case. What could I possibly be hopeful for? That he cared about me?

It may be the most likely explanation if what Jake said was true. Still, if he cared so much about my feelings, why had he been in that cabana with Lauren?

Again, the basic premise of the program came slamming back into my mind, negating all my emotions and thoughts into the simplist answer: he was a Consort, and I was just his weekend Betty.

"Bell, can I tell you something?" Jake had a small smile on his face, watching me with a secret behind his smirk.

"Shoot."

"This program, it's a load of shit . . ."

I choked on my own tongue, staring at him wide-eyed. "W-what do you mean?"

"Do you know why divorce is so rampid nowadays?" I shrugged in response, thinking a million reasons, but mostly thinking of the blantant sexuality being fed into every avenue of our daily lives. "Mostly because people get married for the wrong reasons. They settle."

Jake had my attention.

"A girl meets a boy. The girl likes the boy. The boy likes the girl. They get to know each other, and before you know it, they have mediocore sex and figure they'll stick around for a bit, see how things end up. And then, five years have past and biological clocks start making demands, which leads to wedding bells, and a litter of kids, and bills, and misery, and in no time, infedility. Know what I mean?"

"You make it seem so sad . . . so finate."

"It is sad, because that's not what a marriage, a partnership, should be about."

I thought for a moment, picturing a beautiful family in my mind. A wife, beautiful, but maybe a little fluffy around the edges from giving birth to her four kids. The husband, still good looking, but his expression is haggard, resentful . . . bitter. Maybe because his wife didn't end up being who he thought she'd be when they said "I do." Maybe because he feels his life is nothing but nagging, and chores, and work, and chasing kids. There's no more passion. No desire. No adventure. The wife, she notices his distance, notices his eyes straying to the bombshell neighbor girl, whose twenty-five and just got off from work at the office. Temptation broils. Seeps into the cracks. Insecurities fester. And the kids . . . they sense it all, acting out to garner the attention.

I swallowed against the heavy lump in my throat. "So, what does that have to do with this program? I mean, I know some of the Cullens are mated, but this place is about sex. There's nothing medicore about it. No long-term committment."

"Mated . . ." Jake trails off. "That's a completely different word than I can possibly express."

"What do you mean?"

"You will find out in time, but look at it this way. How much do you learn about a person while having sex?"

"Not much, I'd imagine." I scoffed, thinking that of the act itself could sometimes be the most cold and emotionless thing in the world. Just satisfaction. That's why I was here. I came to learn how to please, and how to receive it in return.

"That's what I thought you'd say . . . but how much do you know about Edward?"

I thought about it for a moment. I knew he was passionate, that he was a good man and smelled amazing. But I didn't know much else about him. Our encounters had been nothing but tense and physical. Was I missing something here?

As if Jake could read my mind, took my hand, gaining my attention.

"What if you tried to please him . . ." I grimaced a little, not liking this conversation. Or maybe _who _I was having it with. Jake laughed. "I meant, what if you felt what he needed, in his words, in his touches, in his moans. You can find out a lot about a person if you listen to their bodies."

"Um, I don't understand what you mean," I said, slowly trying to process his meaning.

"Open your mind, Bella. Your heart just a tad. There is a reason people find their mates here. Why they stay together for so long."

"James was mated," I retorted. "And he didn't have one second of pause when he tried to . . . do what he did."

"James is a moron," Jake growled, his fist clenching around mine. "And I don't believe he was truly mated to Victoria."

"Why?"

I knew that they had a somewhat open relationship, sleeping with other people, sometimes having orgies but using the rationale that it was for "teaching purposes" only. Yet, then I thought about Carmen and Eleazar. How dedicated and intune with each other they were. Watching them make love in their special way felt like a priveledge, like we were spying on something very personal, and incredible sensual.

"I know that you haven't watched many scenes yet, and I hope you don't leave because I want you to stay, if only to witness the true beauty of what this program can be about. But could you imagine Eleazar doing that to Carmen? Or Jasper to Alice?"

"No," I answered automatically.

"Why?"

I thought for a moment, trying to put my answer into words. A soft knock on the door broke my thoughts, and I looked up to see Edward sticking his head in with a solemn expression on his face.

"Can I come in?"


	27. The Hero

**Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization.©2011 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

*****Candy was in Vegas this weekend to party it up with those fanfiction ladies that made it out there. Sadly, I did not make it. A boob job and tummy tuck came first ;) he he... I'm on the road to recovery and magically, the words started flowing. Thanks to Nellielouhoo for tackling the Bettster on her own this week. You are the shiz to my nit!*****

* * *

The Hero

~ Bella Betty ~

It had been two weeks since that day with James, and I had lived my life as a recluse for the most part. I hadn't gone downstairs for movie day or watched any sex lessons. I hadn't accepted any invitations.

Hadn't received any, to be honest.

Well, to be fair, it felt like the whole house went silent for a bit. I felt kind of bad, like it was my fault, despite how many times Rosalie, or Alice, told me that it was common in the program for things to settle down for a week or two. 'Life here isn't just about sex, sex, sex . . . ' They insisted that it wasn't because what had happened between me and James. But I didn't believe either of them. Not for a second.

I'd stayed in my room most of the time, writing, trying to process. To center myself.

Writing had always been that outlet for me . . .

But lately, my stories were consumed with the unattainable.

Much like my life . . .

I didn't understand the program any longer. And it wasn't because of what happened with James. It was how I'd responded to Edward.

He'd come to see me in my room that day, wanting to talk to me. I guessed he'd been standing outside my door for hours before he'd come in, but learning that fact from Jacob had done something inside me. It turned my brain into a confused jumble of emotions and warnings. Telling me that reading into Edward's behavior was a wrong idea yet I wondered about the conclusions that simple logic brought to the surface.

He liked me . . .

And not in a way that was appropriate for our platonic yet highly charged sexual relationship. It's true, we'd been dancing around each other since the moment I'd entered those large oak doors, but it should have stopped there. If the program made any sense, that is.

It was _supposed_ to stop there . . .

And yet, there I was . . . in my room again . . . writing about a romantic god that wooed the young girl into a daring yet passionate, hot and heavy relationship. Despite her need to keep emotionally distant, he knocked down every wall she had surrounding her heart, charging in like the hero fighting a raging monster . . . saving the woman he loved.

My emotions had consumed me, taking over my outlet, my _writing_, and saturating it with everything Edward symbolized to me . . . everything he'd become that day he'd entered my bedroom.

~ ß ~

Jake had been in my room for the better part of an hour comforting me, trying to convince me not to leave because of what James had done. Truly, at that point, I didn't see why I should stay. I mean, if James felt like he could treat me like some plastic blow-up doll for his enjoyment, no matter how much I didn't want it, who's to say the other guys didn't feel the same way?

Eleazar, Garrett, even Carlisle . . .

And the thought of my vulnerability in that situation had me second guessing not only my sanity, but what kind of person I was to willingly put myself in such a provocative and, frankly, _dangerous_ situation.

But Jake had made some good points about his take of the mating process and how it related to the program, and it had me leaning toward giving this whole thing another shot from a somewhat different perspective. One that scared me, if I was being honest.

"I know that you haven't watched many scenes yet," Jake said. "And I hope you don't leave because I want you to stay, if only to witness the true beauty of what this program can be about. But could you imagine Eleazar doing that to Carmen?" he asked, speaking of James' action to Victoria once she questioned his behavior with me. I kind of felt bad for her, after what Jake had told me. "Or Jasper to Alice?"

"No," I answered automatically.

"Why?"

I thought for a moment, trying to put my answer into words. The mating concept seemed to be different for those couples, even for Jake as he sat on my bed, describing how _he _interpreted their relationships.

I wasn't able to answer his question, however. A soft knock on the door broke my thoughts, and I looked up to see Edward sticking his head into my room with a solemn expression on his face.

"Can I come in?"

He stood in the doorway not moving, watching me and Jake on the bed with a furrowed brow. Something in his face made my heart freeze, and Jacob's words previously were circulating through my mind.

_"If Edward hadn't . . . "_

_"If Edward hadn't what?"_

_"If Edward hadn't flattened his face, I would be right about now . . . Open your mind, Bella. Your heart just a tad. There is a reason people find their mates here. Why they stay together for so long . . ."_

"Sure, come on in," Jake replied, smiling as he rose from bed. His word settled my confusing thoughts, and I turned to look at him questioningly. It was common for me to have a man welcome another one into my bedroom.

_Wait...that came out wrong_.

"If you guys are busy, I can come back later," Edward said, gesturing back toward the hallway.

"No," Jake told him. "I was just leaving."

"Jacob," I scolded. I didn't like how he was taking control of what happened in my own bedroom.

What. The. Hell.

It wasn't like I didn't want Edward here, but one little heart to heart and suddenly Jake thought he could answer for me?

"Look, it's obvious that she doesn't want me here, so I'll just go." Edward's voice was clipped, making me wonder how things looked from his point of view.

_Right . . . _

"It's not that, Edward," I said hurriedly, causing him to pause in his retreat and look uncomfortably between Jake and me.

"Stay, brother," Jake told him, glancing back at me with a wicked, knowing smile that made me blush for some reason. "I've got my _own_ Betty to go see about." He left with a wink, and my mind began whirling.

_He's got a Betty to go see about? What the fuck . . . ? _

I started thinking about who he could possibly be talking about, but Jake left before I could say anything, leaving Edward and I alone.

He stood at the end of my bed, staring at my hand, swollen and bruised, still resting in the small bowl of witch hazel.

"It's not that bad," I told him as I held my hand up for him to see. Edward showed me his in turn. Cracked skin, swollen knuckles.

"Quite the pair we make," he said with a smirk.

"Well, I heard that you got a better shot on him than I did."

"Lies..." Edward said softly. There was intensity in his eyes, a sincerity that mirrored something Jake had said. Something . . . different.

_Mates . . ._

"I guess I did make him bleed," I mumbled, looking back to my hand. I had to look away. Something wasn't right in his eyes. They made me see things . . . _feel_ things . . . or maybe Jake's words were fucking with my head.

_Jake . . . and his Betty . . ._

"Who was Jake talking about?" I asked suddenly and without thinking.

"What?"

"When he said . . . does _he _have a Betty?"

"You're all our Betties, Bella." His answer was delivered with a soft tongue but I didn't like the bite to its meaning. Like we were nothing but toys, pocked pussies for the men? That thought made me feel cheap. It made me feel angry.

_You're all our Betties . . ._

And James had _proven_ that, hadn't he.

"Yes, yours to do with as you wish." I stretched my bruised hand for emphasis. "I feel like this is more like a brothel than a sex club. James didn't have to give me any kind of invitation, now did he? Tell me, Edward, you've been inside me a couple times now and I received only _one_ invitation from you. Is that what all you men expect out of me?"

"Stop."

"Did you give one to Lauren?" I asked, looking at him now. "You know, after I didn't come downstairs for tea this morning?"

"Bella, stop."

"What? I'm just trying to figure out the players, here. I mean, this is turning out to be something completely different than I'd imagined. I'm not learning anything but how to please a man, and to be honest, I don't think I had much of a problem in that area before."

"No, but you had a problem _receiving _pleasure before. Don't you remember?" Edward seemed almost panicked, coming to the edge of my bed with his hands clamped by his sides. "Bella, you have learned more about yourself that's what's important. You've made _me_ see something more in myself."

"Knock it off. You're starting to sound like Jake," I exclaimed, rising from the bed and spilling a bit of my witch hazel. I didn't care.

"What do you mean?"

"Meaning that you both act like this _club_ is more than just a way to learn about pleasure."

"It is."

I whirled around on him.

"No, it's not!"

"Bella, you're surrounded by mated couples that found each other in this house."

"Yes, after they'd slept with several other people."

"You don't know that," Edward replied calmly, his tone changing into a quiet hush.

"What do you mean, '_I don't know that_.' It's the whole premise behind the program, Edward. Don't you think I know that?"

"You don't know about how everyone's relationship developed except what they have told you. You are making assumptions."

"Oh, excuse me for _assuming _that these people kinda lucked out in falling for their fuck-buddy."

"Gah, Bella," Edward exclaimed, rising from the bed. "Do you really think that's what I am to you?"

I stopped for a moment, watching him. It took me a moment for me to gather my thoughts, and when I began to speak again, my tone was softer than before.

"Edward, I have to keep those kinds of thoughts away from me right now. Don't you _see_ that? Would I like to think that I meant something more to you than a sure-thing, yes. Deep down, I knew that it was going to be close to impossible to keep my feelings at bay, but I have to try. After all, we are 'all your Betties,' right?"

"That's not what I meant . . ."

"Really? What did you mean, then?"

"I meant that you were all here for a reason, _chosen _for a reason."

"Yes, to learn about pleasure. To seek out our own fantasies — "

"No!" Edward barked in frustration. "No. You are here for me!"

"Oh, I am." I couldn't keep the sarcasm from my tone of voice. "And Lauren? Is _she_ here for you, too?"

"She doesn't matter to me. I didn't do anything with her."

"Sure. You just disappeared behind the cabana and her top magically came undone by itself."

"Bella, please . . . Listen to what I'm saying to you."

"Why are you here, Edward? In my room. Are you here to convince me to stay, too?"

My question seemed to catch him off guard for a second.

"I'm here for you," he clarified. "Because I care about you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. To let you know . . ."

"Yes?" I asked after he'd remained silent for a moment.

"I just . . . He didn't hurt you, right? I mean . . . it didn't get that far . . . right?"

The concern in his voice softened my edges, opening me up and keeping me more vulnerable than I liked.

_Damn it . . ._

Without my permission, my hand found his.

"No, he didn't hurt me. The guys got there before anything happened . . . "

Edward glared at the floor, a sudden wave of anger clouding his perfect features.

"I should've found you first."

"Well . . ." I sighed. "You were a bit preoccupied it seemed."

He pulled me to him, resting his forehead against my shoulder. I could feel him breathing onto my skin, and suddenly, I felt very heated . . . in a more than _platonic_ way.

Because this way, Edward looked more vulnerable than I felt. He seemed to be able to take away his mask of indifference much faster and efficiently than I was. Here, I could see his emotions. They were evident in his eyes as he spoke to me, laced in every breath he exhaled even now. But where did that leave me?

A jumbled mess of illogic and mixed emotions, that's where.

And then I felt his hand leave my wrist and slowly wrap around the small of my back. I felt his thumb caress the skin there, slightly moving up the bottom of the tank top I'd thrown on over my suit.

"Bella . . ."

His lips began to touch my shoulder, soft at first, followed by the hint of his tongue tasting me.

I melted.

It was more than his comfort I wanted in that moment. I wanted all of it. The feelings, the emotions. And I hated myself for it. That, more than my hand or my pride, was going to hurt in the morning.

"Let go . . ." he whispered against the skin just below my ear, his tongue tasting me, his breath warming me.

"I . . . " his lips pressed against my throat.

"I . . ." his fingers played with the edges of my skimpy bathing suit.

"I . . . can't."

Edward stopped his movements. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

He pulled back to look at me but his hands didn't move – one at my back, the other holding mine. I looked into his eyes and saw . . . regret.

It broke my resolve.

"Just . . . give me some time, please?"

His hand left my back and slowly met my face. I could feel the pad of this thumb tracing my cheekbone.

"I just need time . . . to think about things."

"I understand," he said as his hands fell to his lap. His gaze left mind, his posture almost . . . defeated.

"I care about you, Edward." I couldn't stop the words. "Despite every wall or guard I've put up, do you know who I thought of when James was holding me against that wall? Who the first person I wanted to see when I was safe back in my room?"

Edward looked at me, his head tilted with a sad smile on his face.

"It was you," I replied, and I grabbed his hand in both of mine. "Somehow, you found a way through all my safeguards I'd planted before coming into this place, and no matter how much I want to shove you out again . . . I can't."

Edward smiled a bit more warmly then, but his eyes drifted away from me, back down toward the ground, and that made me pull him toward me. It just wasn't acceptable to see a man as amazing as he look so down.

His arms wrapped around my waist, his head rested on my chest.

"Hey," I told him.

"Mmmm?" he replied in a satisfied sound without looking up. He nuzzled his cheek against my breasts as if they were a comfy pillow. I laughed.

"Comfy?" I chuckled.

"Cozy," he answered with a smile. My fingers brushed back the hair at his crown automatically. "Just don't . . . leave, okay? I can give you whatever time or space you need. Just don't leave me, Bella. Okay?"

His eyes met mine and I knew at that moment I was stuck, in every sense of the word. My hands cupped his face, my lips pressed against his softly. And it was at that point I realized no matter what I had to come to grips with, or how many days I needed to recoup after everything that happened, I couldn't leave him.

I wanted him.

To know him . . . to touch him. To learn about what he wanted, and how he could give me what my body craved.

The Cullen Program hadn't proven anything to me but given me a means to meet this beautiful, fascinating man. And despite what I wanted initially when I walked through those doors, my heart superseded all of it.

I was stuck.

And it was a very new, but really good feeling.

* * *

**AN: sorry it took me so long to get this one out! Brain fart... I wanted to go a different direction, the characters fought and pulled my hair... It was viscious. I guess we will play their way. The next chapter gets back into the Observation Deck. Enough of the plot and back to porn, right? LOL!**

**Favor? If you've read my book, can you review on Goodreads. Or Amazon, whichev. Thanks lovies. Author name is Allie Jean :D**


	28. The Morning

The Submission

~ Bella Betty ~

It was with that conversation with Edward that I'd sat in my room and festered with my conflicting thoughts for over two days. I didn't know if at this point I was still justified to sit and stew. By the end of the week, I knew that I had to either suck it up and move on with my training, or I had to call it quits and move out. Honestly, moving out wasn't an option for me at this point. I had too much invested to just tuck my tail between my legs and run.

Did I hate what James had done? Absolutely.

Was I using that situation as an excuse to avoid Edward and everything he invoked inside of me? Most likely . . .

I hated feeling so vulnerable, but more so, I despised feeling out-of-control-obsessed with someone that I couldn't get him off my mind.

I saw Edward in the fictional characters that I spend countless hours perfecting in my books, winning the hand of a fair madden with just his charm alone. I saw him in my dreams, taking me over every surface of this room, of this mansion, with wild abandon. I saw him in my shower as I rinsed off the sweat induced from yet another heady dream, washing my backside, skimming his fingertips over my body.

It was driving me insane.

And the emotions I had tried to keep at bay? Yeah, they were not only in full bloom but laced with an intense lust that had my vision clouded and my thought fixed on an inner porno channel that would send Playboy to shame.

I was toast.

And it just so happened that the sex-gods-that-be wanted to capitalize on it, for today was a day that I'd been both dreading and anticipating in equal measure.

Today, I learned about the beauty of submission.

So now that I've decided to stay – at least part of me had – the news seemed to travel fast. Actually, I hadn't really confirmed nor denied my decision to anyone, but I guess the fact that I hadn't gone running out of the house screaming might have clued people in.

And the fact that I _hadn't _done just that bothered me a bit. But if I was being honest with myself – which I guess I lacked the habit of doing lately – the reason why I hadn't left was currently watching me like a hawk as I walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter. He stood there next to the coffee machine, sipping from a black mug. I tried not to make eye contact while I went about my business.

‟Hey, Bella!" Emmett's booming voice rang from across the room. He took the few strides in my direction and jumped up onto the counter next to me, opened the cabinet by his head, and retrieved two mugs. I bit into the apple as he raised a questioning eyebrow at me and tilted one to the mugs. I gave him a nod of approval.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward grab the carafe off the hot plate and reach toward Emmett to fill each mug. I tried not to make eye contact. I knew once I did he'd be able to read me like a Sunday newspaper. We hadn't spoken since that day in my room, and part of me felt awkward about it.

‟I knew you'd stick around," Emmett said as he peered into the mug filling with brown liquid. ‟You wouldn't go down like that. You're a fighter. I said it all along."

‟Thanks." The end of the words trailed off like a question. Edward brought something up to his mouth and I closed my eyes, picturing his lips wrapping themselves around whatever it was he held in his hand.

_Not helping . . ._

‟No prob." Emmett held the sugar up in question and I nodded. He poured two huge spoonfuls in, and I mentally added in a round with the cardio machine tonight to make up for the extra calories.

Or maybe just a round or two with Edward would do the trick.

One sounded more appealing than the other that was for sure . . .

‟Your face is all red. What are _you_ thinking about?" Emmett nudged my shoulder with his larger one, bringing me out of my dirty thought with a massive jolt. My eyes flashed over to Edward and I saw him watching me with one eyebrow lifted and a smirk firmly in place.

‟Nothing . . ."

‟Nothing my ass!" Emmett bellowed, seeing the exchange between Edward and I.

‟Leave her alone, Em," Rosalie said, entering the room and heading straight for the coffee pot. ‟She hasn't gotten laid in days. And she can't help if your brother is over there staring at her like she's a steak fixed medium rare."

Rosalie gulped down the mug of coffee like it was a shot glass filled with Fireball whiskey. I watched her, so amazed at the feet I didn't feel the need to comment on Rosalie's observation.

‟Long night?"

Rosalie just gave me a knowing look.

‟I kept her up with my man-pole," Emmett said, beaming. Rosalie and I stared at him, one incredulous, the other amused.

‟Your man-pole, Emmett?" Edward said, reaching between the group to refill his cup of coffee. His close proximity made my senses heighten and charge like a wire umbrella in an electrical storm. I swallowed thickly.

‟Yes, little Edward. Some of us have been blessed with unimaginable gigantic parts that they would classify as being pole-like in nature."

‟And some of us don't feel the need to discuss said _parts_ at breakfast, or any chance we get."

‟Hear, hear," Rosalie said, holding her refilled cup of Joe up in agreement.

‟Oh, lighten up, Eddie. You wanna compare my awesomeness? Ask Bella. She's seen both our Johnsons."

Edward slammed his cup onto the counter, the liquid sloshing all around. With fists clenched at his sides, he turned and excited the kitchen. Emmett let out a chuckle as he watched his brother storm off.

‟I knew that would piss him off!"

‟Why do you do that to him?" Rosalie swatted at him as Emmett hoped off the counter. He leaned in a placed a kiss to her temple.

‟Because he's easy to fuck with."

"You're an asshole."

Emmett laughed, shrugged, and left the kitchen without further comment. I took a deep breath and went to sip my coffee, enjoying the slight burn in my throat from the heat.

"I swear I don't know what is with the two of them lately. They are at each other's throats!"

"I'm guessing that's not normal for them?"

Rosalie just shrugged, not commenting further. I spent a bit more time with Rose, catching up on the last few days I'd missed and hearing more details than I'd wanted on what had kept her up so late last night. She also mentioned a small confrontation that happened between Jessica and Lauren. Apparently Jess had snapped at one point and called her a callous bitch, to which Lauren laughed at and walked away. Bad thing was the whole thing happened in front of the Cullens, and Carlisle had pulled Jessica into his office for a brief meeting. Rose didn't know what had come of it, and she hadn't had an opportunity to ask anyone about it. I hoped Jess was okay and felt like a bad friend for not being with her. No doubt Lauren had said something shitty to her.

"What's up, bitches!" Alice came strolling into the room, looking perfect and perky as always. She paused to give me a little squeeze before she reached for the coffee pot.

"Who drank all of the coffee?" Rose and I exchanged a look. "You two owe me a pot of coffee."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Alice. It's not like you can't make more on your own."

"You know that I like it already made for me, Rosalie Hale."

"Yes, your highness. Would you like us to butter your bread for you to? Make your bed? Wipe your ass?"

Alice flipped her off while I laughed. Rosalie made a point to sip her coffee, over dramatizing her enjoyment at our friend's expense.

"I've got it babe," Jasper said, coming up behind her and placing a kiss on the back of her head. He opened the cabinet and pulled out a bag of ground coffee and began making her a new pot. Alice smiled victoriously and leaned into Jasper like she'd found her knight in shining armor. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"I swear you are too high maintenance to be called 'high maintenance'. You're more like an 'extreme a pain in the ass'."

"I like to be taken care of. So what?"

"There's something to be said about getting your every wish." Carmen came into the room, followed closely by her submissive and mated partner, Eleazar. He had his head down a bit and stayed directly on her right hand side. It reminded me of something a well-trained dog would do and I grimaced at the thought. Carmen caught my reaction before I could calm my face and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, looks like you're sticking around."

"Guess so." I sipped my coffee slowly.

"After an attack like that I would've thought you'd leave."

"I can take care of myself," I said, hating the way she looked at me. Like I was something she could stop with her boot.

"That remains to be seen. Everyone has been going on and on about you this week. Feels like you're the center of attention. I'm sure you like that."

"What would give you that impression?"

"I know you're type, Isabella. You're just like these two." She gestured toward Rosalie and Alice, who both glared at her with angry expression. "You like being on the mouths of all the men around here."

"Excuse me?"

"Ever thought of the _reason_ James attacked you?"

"'Cause he's an asshole."

"Perhaps you have some fault there, too. After all, it's happened before to another Betty I used to know." She gave a sly smirk in Alice's direction.

"Shut the fuck up, Carmen." Rosalie pushed off the counter and placed herself in front of me. I saw Jasper put his arm around Alice, who looked like she'd been slapped in the face. "You're crossing dangerous ground right now and you know it."

"Don't think she has the right to know?"

"Know what?" I couldn't take them talking like I wasn't even there.

"Nothing, Bella," Rosalie said, not taking her eyes off Carmen. "I think you're going to be late for your training session. Why don't you take off and we will catch up later."

My gaze shifted between Carmen and Rosalie, curious to know more details. Neither woman was backing down, but Carmen hadn't said anything more on the subject.

"Yeah, okay. Sure."

I left the kitchen shortly after, feeling like a chicken in a wolf den alone with so much hostility. I had about five minutes to get there myself, and headed in that direction with a fresh cup of coffee in hand.

"Are you okay?"

I heard Edward's voice from behind me, and I paused for just a moment, beating back the frustration at his words. I knew he cared, but I just wanted to move on from this. There would be a lot of people asking me that question today, since it was my first appearance after the event with James. Hopefully things would die down, and I didn't have to be a cautionary tale any longer. I wanted my Betty persona back, not one that I had to play the victim to placate the curious onlooker.

"Bella?"

"I'm fine." Facing him, I crossed my arms across my chest, showing him that I didn't want to rehash everything. From behind his shoulder, I saw the others peering at us from the kitchen in curiosity. I rolled my eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Why is everyone acting like I was raped. The situation with James hadn't even come close."

"I think you're in shock." He closed the distance between us and grasped my shoulders lightly. "It came closer than you want to admit, Bella."

"Well, it didn't happen. And even if it did come as close as you like to believe, I can take care of myself." I held up my swollen, bruised knuckles that were just beginning to heal.

"I can see that."

"My Daddy taught me well."

"Now that's something I'd like to see. Some rich man of LA throwing a punch. I couldn't picture it of my father. Yours must be a lawyer or something, am I right?"

He smiled at me, expecting an answer. No way was I going to tell him that my father spent his life in the oilfields, breaking his bones to bring home a measly paycheck. He wouldn't get that part of me. Not in this life time. Pursing my lips, I changed the subject. "Look, I really appreciate your concern, I do. I'm fine though. I just want to move past what happened. Try to forget it and move on with the program, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Thanks." I spun on my heel and headed up the grand staircase toward the second stories. I heard the fall of heavy feet behind me and turned to see Edward following close on my heels. "What? Are you going to follow me around all day like some lost puppy?"

"No."

"I have training today, Edward. Sorry. Can't play."

He laughed and I liked the sound. "I know," he said, still following close behind. I glanced at him surreptitiously.

"You know I can find my way to the Deck on my own. You don't need to be my escort."

"Your Consort is enough, huh?" I gave him a mock glare and he smiled at me.

"Exactly," I said. "Useful for one thing."

"Ouch. That hurts." He clutched at his chest in a cheesy attempt to show me how much I'd wounded him.

"I think that's a near impossibility."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

We reached the landing and he stepped in front of me before I could make my way down the hallway. I glared at him, and resolved myself to be brutal. The truth of my thoughts needed to be the only thing I didn't keep hidden in this place.

I shrugged. "You seem to have thick skin, and from the way you're just so nonchalant about the 'sharing is caring' mantra of this place, I assume that the walls you have built around you are pretty fucking high. Mine would be. Will be, I should say."

"Will be . . ."

"Yes, sir." I pushed past him, wanting to leave Edward to fester in my words and what they meant for both of us. He wasn't having any of it, however. I could feel him beside me, staring daggers in my direction.

"If I wasn't so pissed off at your comment, I'd say that I like it when you call me Sir."

"Pissed off?" I ignored his last remark.

"Yeah. Don't make assumptions, Bella. They might have you eating your words in the end."

"So you don't have it?"

"It?"

"The wall around you, guarding who you truly are from everyone here." I gestured around me. Edward watched me for a moment, silent. A wicked smile quirked one corner of his perfect mouth, and part of me bristled. Which Edward would reply to my remark, I mused. The lost soul or the asshole?

"You tell me. You've been around me quite a bit while you've been here and seen me at my best."

"And worst."

"So, do I have one?"

"Hell yeah you do, and you'd be stupid not to." Still, I couldn't deny that I'd seen instances, seconds of time that something softer than the hardcore sex god he'd been with me. I can't tell him that, however. For some reason, admitting that felt like a confession of my own. Telling him that I'd noticed a part of him that wasn't meant for me. It had been private, and I'd seen it and perved on it like some peeping tom.

"Interesting," he said, looking at me with an expression I couldn't really place.

"What?"

"Nothing." He smiled at me, giving me one of those grins that did wicked things to my imagination. Instead of leaping onto him and ripping his clothes off, like my body wanted to do, I gave him my back and hurried down the hallway, wanting as much distance as possible. I could hear him behind me, though.

"Why are you still following me?"

"I'm not."

I turned to look at him and he gave me a wink.

"Sure."

When I reached the door, Edward stepped in front of me before I could open it.

"You're not the only one receiving training today, Betty. Once again, you shouldn't assume."

Edward pushed open the door, and stepped onto the Deck.


	29. The Asshat

**Twilight character names belong to Stephanie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization.©2014 Emily Bowden. All rights reserved worldwide.**

******Thanks to Neliz! You rock my world, friend. **

* * *

The Asshat

~ Edward Masen ~

I had to keep myself together. I couldn't allow myself to feel this shit again. But seeing Bella this morning, all confidence and nonchalance after everything that had happened to her . . .

I don't know; there was just something about her this morning that had my attention. That kind of strength, of perseverance, deserved respect in my opinion. It made her even more appealing in some way. To be honest, just about anything she did had me by the balls.

"Hey, man. You okay?"

I was stopped just past the doorway to the Deck by someone I just didn't have the patience for at that moment. Jacob looked at me with one eyebrow quirked like I had three heads or something. I had no idea what he meant by his comment. Jasper told me to be here, after all. I knew it wasn't customary for Consorts and Betties to be together for this sort of thing. Too much lust in the air, I think Carlisle had said when I asked about it. Glancing around the Observation Deck, I noticed every pledge in the program, male or female, making themselves comfortable to our training session.

"What?"

"I said, are you okay? You look a little flustered."

"I'm fine."

Just then, a small hand touched my back and a whiff of Bella's perfume infiltrated sinuses. I felt her tight body press against me while she squeezed past to get to a free seat, muttering something about blocking her way like an 'asshat'. I bit back a smile and faced Jake with a hopefully blank expression.

"I'm-m fine."

"Yeah, I can see that." He glanced pointedly in Bella's direction, and then returned with a knowing grin. "I don't blame you for being off your game."

"Man, mind your own business." I shoved past him and took a vacant seat in the back row, one that just happened to have a perfect view of Bella's profile.

"I'd love to mind my own shit. Stop broadcasting yours all over the place." Jake sat next to me and I glared at him. He gestured with his head toward Bella and I groaned. "So what's up with you two?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit. I can see it all over your face." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Do me a favor, don't fuck her up. She's a sweet girl."

My hackles raised, my defenses immediately going alert. I didn't enjoy the all-knowing, condescending look on Jake's face. Of course he knew about Bree and how I'd treated the poor girl. He'd witnessed it, even called me out on it. And knowing what had happened, he had every right to be concerned. But I wouldn't do that to Bella. Still, Jake should mind his own damn business.

"Shut the fuck up."

I pushed away from him, ignoring his obvious glare in response.

"I mean it. She's a good girl, Masen. Don't hurt her."

"I'm not going to hurt her, Jacob. She knows what she's here for. So leave it be."

"Oh you think so, huh?"

"What's that supposed to mean."

Bella and I had an understanding of what she wanted out of this program, and she was determined to keep her emotions out of the equation. I planned to respect that, even if my mind seemed to be preoccupied with every part of her.

"I think we both know that Bella is way over her head with this shit. She may tell herself this is all about sexual exploration, but she's too sweet not to let emotions get in the way."

I laughed humorlessly. "I don't think I'd call her sweet in the sense you mean."

"I'm serious, douche." Jake punched me in the arm. Hard. "Don't pull a Bree on her. She wouldn't survive it intact."

He had to say her name . . .

A few of the other Consorts turned our way at his words. Mike especially seemed interested in our conversation all of a sudden. If we weren't careful, our discussion would garner the attention of some of the Betties as well, and the ladies weren't aware to the fact that all of the Consorts have been in the program before. In fact, they had no knowledge of our relationship to the Cullens, and it had to remain that way. Lowering my voice, I growled at Jacob.

"I don't have any intention of doing that."

"Really? So how was Lauren that day in the cabana? Have you sent her a formal invitation since that day in the cabana, or where you just planning on screwing her that one time."

I heard a woman gasp, and I glanced to see Bella looking at both of us, Jessica and Angela close by her. Each of the women were glaring at the two of us with unveiled hatred and disgust. Bella, however, looked heartbroken.

She'd heard everything that Jake had just said, and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she had taken Jake's assumptions as fact. Any progress we'd made toward being a bit more than just fuck buddies had just disappeared in one second's time. If I had a chance to fix this, I needed to get to Bella now. To explain. I stood from my seat, intent to reach her.

"Everyone want to take your seats?"

Out of the corner of my eyes, I noted that Kate stood in front of the big glass window that looked into the room beyond, probably making sure everyone was where they needed to be before she gave the signal for the scene players to begin. Meanwhile, Bella kept her eyes on me, even though her friends turned away from the two of us and took their seats. I silently plead with her to let me explain, shaking my head against the accusations Jake and his stupidity had made.

Moments passed before Bella lowered her gaze from mine and turned to join her friend. Feeling anxious and heavy, I returned to my seat next to Jacob, who immediately leaned into me.

"Dude, I'm so sorry. I didn't know she was standing there."

"Fuck off," I told him, not wanting to hear his murmured excuses.

"Good, looks like everyone's here." Kate smile widened. "Ladies, I'm sure you're wondering why the guys are with you. Today is a special day for you all. The couple you are about to see hasn't done this in quite some time, and that is why the room is packed today. We wanted to have both sides of the coin here today because there's nothing like learning from the best."

I internally groaned, knowing what was coming. Carlisle had mentioned this was a possibility.

"For those of you who stated that they don't show interest in BDSM this is still something that you will enjoy. Some say that the couple's preferences are a lighter form of the lifestyle, but I, personally, would challenge that. I'd ask you to note the submission from the female in this scene. See how she keeps her partner's desires at the forefront of her mind, never wavering. There is beauty to it. Honesty. A rawness that cannot be duplicated in any other relationship. Keep that in mind while watching."

I kept my eyes focused on Bella's profile, gauging her reaction. With each word Kate spoke, I saw the tension Jake's words had put on her shoulders lighten just a bit.

"Without further ado, I present the submissive . . ."

As the scene progressed, not one person spoke. The women seemed to be captivated with what they witnessed, while the men seemed just as intent to watch the Betties and their reactions. As for me, my focus was solely on Bella.

I could see her chest rise and fall in rapid succession, slowing down during places where the tension ran high and the scene became increasingly provocative. Sweat formed on the nape of her neck, her fists clenching at times, her posture rigid. She was turned on, I could tell. Ready to experience the obvious pleasure the submissive enjoyed at the hands of her Dom. And when the scene was over and the lights in the Deck rose, Bella stayed in her seat, not saying a word.

Yet I had every intent on capitalizing on her state. Tonight, we wouldn't just talk about what Jake had said. Tonight, we were doing a little rule breaking of our own.

* * *

**So, who's the couple?**

**Coming up is a big chap. Had to break it up a bit. You guys broke over 200+ reviews last time! BLEW. MY. MIND!**


End file.
